


Noble

by JustLikeTheSong



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Courtship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Warning: Attempted rape, Warning: violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 51,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLikeTheSong/pseuds/JustLikeTheSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(summary stolen from gleeficupdates)</p><p>Sebastian is a Lord, and Kurt is one of his servants. During a trip, their carriage is attacked by highway men. In an attempt to save himself, Sebastian offers to pay the men, and also offers up Kurt, to use however they like.</p><p>But before the men can do anything to Kurt, they’re attacked by a different group of men, led by Blaine. Blaine’s group kills or runs most of them off, and commandeers their belongings.</p><p>Including Kurt and Sebastian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt trudged up the steps, carefully balancing the tray that held Lord Sebastian’s breakfast. Four one-minute eggs, two fresh croissants, an apple cored and peeled, and a concoction meant to soothe what was sure to be a sore head after a night of cavorting at the ball Lady Susan hosted the night previous. He reached the top of the stairs and walked down the hall, his mouth twisting in distaste at the prospect of dealing with his master, who would be undoubtedly grumpy but no less arrogant than usual.

The door to Sebastian’s chambers flew open, and before Kurt could react, a tall blond man ran into him, splattering the breakfast all over his servant’s uniform. It took Kurt a second to realize, but the blond man was naked, clutching some clothing in front of his body to try to preserve his modesty.

“Flynt?!” Kurt said incredulously, recognizing the stable boy who took care Sebastian’s younger sister Elizabeth’s horse.

“S-sorry,” Flynt muttered, stumbling away and blushing.

Kurt gaped at his retreating form and then rolled his eyes. Of course. Sebastian hadn’t had enough fun at the ball, drinking and likely sneaking off to some shadowy corner to harass some poor servant; he had come home and tempted Flynt into his bed, only to kick him out of it as soon as he woke.

Kurt was about to turn back around and go prepare Sebastian’s meal once more, when Sebastian’s voice reached his ears.

“Kurt? Is that you out there? Come here.”

He sighed and walked into the room, setting the tray on the edge of Sebastian’s bed.

“Where’s my breakfast?” Sebastian drawled, lazing against the pillows, naked, the sheets just covering his more private areas.

“Your bedfellow upset it out in the hall in his haste to leave, Sir,” Kurt answered, struggling to keep the contempt out of his voice.

“I’m sure the sight of your face was enough to have him running for the hills,” Sebastian replied idly, inspecting his nails, “Go make it again and don’t take too long. We’ve a long journey ahead of us. You know,” he added, “sometimes I forget why I’m bothering to bring you along, but then I remember that you’re the only servant I know who is unattractive enough that I won’t be tempted to bed you along the way. And it certainly wouldn’t make a good impression if I arrived at my fiance’s door with a well-fucked servant.”

“Am I to gather that your dalliances will cease once you are married, then, my Lord?”

Sebastian laughed. “Certainly not. Lord Edward of Westerton may be reputed to be very handsome and charming and an attentive lover, but I fear my appetite cannot be satiated by one man alone. Now go and make my breakfast. And you shan’t have any for yourself this morning, for asking such an impertinent question.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kurt bit out, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt squinted in the dim light, trying to make out the words of his book, a tale of Arthur and Guinevere. He was sitting on the floor of the carriage, Sebastian having taken up the whole of the cushioned bench so he could stretch out and sleep. The carriage rumbled along, and Kurt tried not to pay attention to every jolt and bump on the path. Sebastian snorted and turned over, a little smirk playing on his lips as he dreamed, no doubt about bedding some servant or other or listing everything that made Kurt repulsive and unappealing.

Suddenly, an agonized scream tore through the air and something thunked against the side of the carriage. Even as Kurt went completely still, Sebastian jolted awake.

“Huh whazzit?”

Kurt didn’t bother replying as Sebastian looked around blearily. The carriage picked up speed, but soon there were two more yells of pain, and then the carriage quickly drew to a halt.

“I say, what is the delay?” Sebastian demanded angrily, reaching for the curtain at the window.

“Don’t!” Kurt whispered as Sebastian drew the fabric back.

He dropped it into place with a jump mere seconds later as an arrow hit the frame of the window.

“Good Lord!” Sebastian exclaimed, sitting up straight.

“Shhh,” Kurt tried to quiet him, his heart thumping erratically.

Sebastian glared at him but did not make a sound. They both listened with bated breath. The sound of conversation and laughter drew closer, accompanied by the fall of heavy footsteps.  
Kurt motioned for Sebastian to move back, and he did, surprisingly.

Kurt shuffled forward, holding his breath and cocking his fist. When the carriage door swung open, he swung, his knuckles connecting with the face of the man standing there and sending a jolt of pain up his arm. He quickly kicked his foot out against the man’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. There was a shout of alarm, and then someone reached into the carriage and grabbed him by the hair, holding a wicked-looking knife to his throat.

“Well, boys, looks like we got ourselves a feisty little treat!” The ruffian, big and beefy and filling Kurt’s nostrils with an odious scent, called to his fellows as he pulled Kurt out of the carriage and tossed him to the ground. The man he had punched and kicked stumbled to his feet and aimed a kick to Kurt’s ribs. Kurt let out a groan of pain and curled in on himself. He could hear Sebastian's panicked protesting behind him.

“Get your filthy hands off me! I am Lord Sebastian of Everly! Do you know who I am? I’m worth your lives ten times over in ransom, but you’ll not get a pittance if any harm comes to me.”

Kurt looked up from his position on the ground. Sebastian was flanked by two of the outlaws, who held his arms, and his eyes were wide and alarmed.

“Then who is that?” The big one – perhaps the leader – asked, pointing down at Kurt.

“That is my servant. If you desire something to beat or to bed, feel free. He’s practically worthless to me. Do with him what you will.”

“What?! No!” Kurt rasped, even as several pairs of hands descended upon him, groping at his buttocks and squeezing his hips as the men around him jeered and whistled.

“Not now, you horny bunch of animals!” The leader shouted, leering at Kurt. “We’ll back to camp first, dine, and then make use of the servant. And no one is to touch him before I have my pleasure of him!”

“No, wait-“ Kurt’s alarmed protests were cut off when one of the ruffians hauled him up by his hair and smacked him across the face.

“Shut up!”

Kurt began to struggle, but soon three men were holding him down and binding his wrists behind his back. They dragged him over to a horse and tied a rope to his hands and attached it to the reigns. He dimly registered that Sebastian was being placed, hands tied, in the back of a wagon. When the horse started to move, Kurt was jerked to his feet. He had to strain against the pull of the rope to keep walking straight forward. He stumbled along behind the horse, trying to ignore the catcalls and whistling directed at him.

He wondered how long he’d have to walk until the reality of his circumstances truly sank in.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They arrived at the outlaws’ camp as the sun was setting. The ruffians poured ale and roasted meat over a fire. One of them, smiling at Kurt suggestively, tied him to a tree. He leaned back against the trunk, exhausted, thirsty, hungry, sore. His back ached and his feet felt like they might fall off. His cheekbone was still aching from where the man had hit him earlier in the day. He watched the men cavorting merrily, drunk off ale and feasting on smoked deer meat and bread and potatoes. Their voices were too loud, and he cringed every time one of them looked his way, his stomach queasy with dread and fear when it wasn’t growling for food.

Kurt gazed over at Sebastian, who had been given a chunk of rabbit and a piece of bread for his dinner. Kurt doubted he would be getting anything, and frankly he had more pressing concerns. Do with him what you will, Sebastian had said, and the men had certainly made their intentions clear. Kurt shuddered at the memory of the big, beefy one’s hand groping his buttocks. It was absolutely clear what they intended to do to him. He tried to crane his neck over his shoulder to see where his wrists were bound and tied to the tree, but it was no use. He twisted his arms, wincing as the rough material chafed at his wrists, trying to get loose.

Sensing a presence, he looked up. One of the outlaws was coming towards him, a dirty knife in hand. Kurt sucked in a breath and pressed up against the tree. The man laughed cruelly.

“Don’t worry prettyface; I’m just here to cut you from the tree. It’s the others you should be scared of,” the man grinned, showing crooked, blackened teeth as he jerked his head over to the group of rowdy drunks by the fire.

“You don’t need to do this,” Kurt attempted to appeal to the man’s conscience; “you could just…let me go. Say I overpowered you and got away.”

The man snorted. “Right, like anyone’d believe a little nancy like you could beat me, especially with your hands tied.” He hauled Kurt up by his collar and gripped him roughly by the arm, dragging him over to the fire and tossing him to the dirt when the group of men parted to leave space.

Kurt fell to his knees, and then, his hands still bound behind his back, fell forward, his face scrunching up in pain as he hit the ground.

“He’s all yours boys!” The man crowed, “Remember to share!”

The men laughed and jeered drunkenly. One tucked his boot under Kurt’s side and kicked him over. Kurt groaned in pain and gritted his teeth at the taste of dirt in his mouth.

The big, beefy one grabbed a handful of Kurt’s hair and yanked him to his feet. Kurt cried out as the men continued to laugh at him.  
The man yanked his head back and shuffled him close to the fire. “Such a pretty face, and that high lady voice” he leered, “you sure you ain’t a girl?”

“Only one way to find out!” Another man shouted, and he was greeted with cheers.

“I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be,” Kurt spat with a lot more conviction that he was currently feeling inside, and he glared at the man, who chuckled even as his friends teased him, and then drew back his arm and backhanded Kurt across the face, tossing him to the ground once more. The man’s ring scratched open a long cut across Kurt’s cheek. Tears pooled in his eyes. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, but the fight had gone out of him. They streamed down his cheeks as he thought of what was to come. Someone grabbed him by the leg and dragged him across the ground, and he glanced up to see Sebastian sitting off to the side, bound to a tree, looking mildly interested in the proceedings.

Hands scrabbled at his chest, and he closed his eyes at the sound of his shirt being torn from his body, the buttons flying out into the night. The remaining scraps dangled down by his tied hands.

“So! Not a girl after all!” Someone yelled, as hands groped at his bare chest. Kurt instinctively struggled against the touches, which earned him a solid fist to the stomach. He doubled over in pain.

“See? He’s presenting himself to us already,” someone chortled, gripping Kurt’s hips and grinding against his buttocks.

“Please,” Kurt managed to gasp, hating himself for begging, “d-don’t do this to me.”

“Shut up,” a cruel voice sneered, shoving him so that his face met dirt once more. A set of hands yanked on his hips so that he was on his knees with his bottom in the air, his face still pressed into the dirt, and nudged his legs apart, tugging on his tight breeches as he tried to wriggle away.

Suddenly, a strangled cry of pain pierced the air, and it wasn’t coming from Kurt. More quickly followed, and Kurt could hear arrows whizzing through the air, the sounds of battle cries not far away. The man between his legs quickly got up and abandoned him. Men were running every which way; some trampled over him, leaving him crying out in pain as their heavy boots trod across his back, kicked the side of his face, and jostled him about.  
The smell of death soon filled the air, and the screams died out. Kurt groaned, trying to flip himself over, but not really wanting to. He was too afraid of what would be waiting for him once he turned over and opened his eyes.

“I say!” He heard Sebastian yelp indignantly, “Do you know who I am? I am Lord Sebastian of Everly. If you want your ransom, you’d better not leave one bruise on me! I’ll tell you what I told them: if you want someone to beat or to fuck, my servant over there is yours to do with what you will.”

Kurt felt panic rise anew in his throat as several voices muttered and he could hear several pairs of feet heading towards him. He grunted in pain and was just starting to roll over when a pair of hands grabbed his arms and pulled him up to standing. He stumbled a little but the hands held him up. He kept his head lowered, but hesitantly looked up to see a new group of outlaws surrounding him. He shivered against the cold of the night, tasting blood and dirt in his mouth and blinking furiously against more tears welling in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

His blurry gaze slowly came into focus and he found himself looking at a man with dark, curly hair, a lean but muscular build, substantial stubble on his strong jaw, and piercing eyes underneath a pair of thick eyebrows.

“This him?” The man called to Sebastian, his voice velvety smooth but still with an edge of roughness.

“Yes, that’s him. You can use him for a personal fuck toy for all I care, but if you want your ransom-“

“Yeah, no harming you, I got it,” the dark-haired man said, rolling his eyes.

“-I mean, I personally couldn’t stomach touching that hideous thing, but I suppose as outlaws, you ‘gentlemen’ must have less discerning taste-“ Sebastian prattled on.

“Shut your trap unless you want me to shut it for you!” Someone behind Kurt yelled, and the man in front of him laughed, before he looked back at Kurt, and his face sobered, narrowing his eyes at Kurt’s face.

“Right, boys, well, it’s late. As successful as this little adventure was, let’s gather everything and head back to camp so I can get some sleep. Oh,” the curly-haired man added, “and bring the servant boy to my tent.”

He spoke with authority and finality, and his men agreed readily. “Yes, Blaine,” said the big outlaw who currently held Kurt’s arms.  
Kurt found himself unceremoniously tossed into the back of a wagon along with Sebastian. Sebastian sat upright, the product of good breeding, but Kurt lay on his side, turned away from his master, grimacing in pain with every jostle of the wagon as they traveled and fighting back tears of frustration and fear.

“Don’t be so rude,” Sebastian tsked, toeing him in the back.

“I hate you,” Kurt hissed.

“I wouldn’t be so insubordinate if I were you,” Sebastian sing-songed, “when all is said and done, assuming you’re still alive when the ransom has been paid and I am restored to my family or my fiancé, I won’t be very interested in letting you retain your position as my servant if you continue to act this way. And once these men pass you around, you’ll be so diseased and dirty that you won’t be able to find work elsewhere. If you survive, that is.”

“You’d know all about being diseased,” Kurt snapped.

This band of outlaws appeared to have camp set up not too far from where they had overtaken the other group. It wasn’t long until they were coming to a halt, having arrived at their new location. One ruffian shook Sebastian awake and escorted him somewhere, perhaps to a tent of his own, while the big man from before picked Kurt up and threw him over his shoulder. Kurt hadn’t slept on the short trip, and he knew where he was headed: to the tent of their leader – Blaine – to be used for sex and abused and probably disposed of after that.

The big lug carried him into a large tent and set him down, tying his still bound hands to a large, sturdy pole in the middle of the room.

“He’ll be along soon,” the giant mumbled as he flipped the tent flap back and ducked his head to exit.

  


Kurt burst into tears and crumpled to his knees as soon as he left. It was all too much. He hadn’t expected much out of life, not really. He had hoped to eventually save enough from the pittance Sebastian’s family paid him to move into town, and perhaps find a job in an inn. Then maybe he would have fallen in love, with a farm boy visiting town, or another worker at the inn. And they would have lived, and worked, and loved together for the rest of their lives.

But now here he was, Lord Sebastian’s sudden whipping boy, bruised and bleeding, shivering half-naked, trussed up and waiting in the dark of the night for some dirty outlaw to rape him.

He furiously tried to wipe his face against his shoulder to smear away the tears, ignoring the pain the action caused him.

A few more minutes passed, and his sobs turned to sniffles and then to just shaky breathing. Then the tent flap swept open and the leader – Blaine – walked in, carrying a candle. He glanced at Kurt before lighting a couple more candles, leaving the room in a dim, orange glow.

Kurt cringed and pressed against the pole as Blaine pulled a blood-stained knife from his boot and walked towards him. He flinched violently when Blaine placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Just for your hands,” Blaine said, his eyes flickering to his knife in indication. He leaned over Kurt’s shoulder and sawed at the ropes. When they gave way, Blaine bit the handle of the knife between his teeth and gripped Kurt by the arms to pull him to standing.

Kurt’s every last hair felt like it was on end, he was so terrified and on edge, but his knees still buckled and he fell forward against his captor, gasping with pain and fright as he did. He fell into a firm chest, and Blaine’s arms snaked around his waist to hold him up. He heard the knife clatter to the floor. He shuddered as Blaine held him up, held him against his body, and when he tried to pull back, Blaine scooped him up in his arms and strode over to his bed, setting Kurt down and hovering over him.

Kurt used the momentum and rolled away, before sitting up and pushing with his feet so he could scramble to the far side of the bed. “Don’t – please, don’t hurt me, p-please,” he whispered shakily, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head to the side, knowing it was useless. His hands twisted futilely behind his back, sending jolts of pain up his arms from the burn at his wrists from the rope.

  


He let out a whimper when he felt the bed shift under Blaine’s weight; he could sense a knee being placed in the space between his legs, and a hand gripped his chin to turn his face forward, a thumb swiping across his cheek.

“I won’t.”

Kurt’s eyes fluttered open in confusion at the words and he found himself staring straight into Blaine’s. He couldn’t move his head, so he averted his eyes.

“I won’t hurt you,” Blaine repeated, bringing both hands up to wipe the tears from his face, “you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Kurt couldn’t understand why the ruffian would lie to him like this; what could he possibly have to gain from it? Unless he just enjoyed teasing Kurt with the possibility of safety, only to watch him despair when he revealed his true intent to use him for carnal pleasures. Or perhaps he meant that he would not strike Kurt. It didn’t matter; Kurt wanted no part in sex with some outlaw who would be forcing him even if he didn’t leave any bruises. Kurt bit his lip to hold back his tears.

“Turn over,” Blaine told him.

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut again and shook his head vehemently, thinking of the position the man had had him in by the fire earlier – face down, on his knees, with his bottom in the air.

“No, I w-will not,” he said, cursing his trembling voice.

Surprisingly gentle hands gripped his arms and pulled him to his knees. “Turn around,” Blaine said, “so I can free your hands.”

Kurt hesitated, opening his eyes to look at Blaine, who was looking back at him patiently, before shuffling to turn on his sore knees. He shivered when a hand trailed down his arm and lifted his wrists away from his back. He felt the cool press of the flat of a blade against the skin of his wrist, and then a back and forth sawing motion for a moment, and then the ropes gave way.  
He rubbed at his sore wrists tenderly as he let Blaine’s hands guide him to turn around again. It felt so strange to have a man touching him on the bare skin of his arms. He looked at Blaine’s face and felt a lump in his throat when he realized Blaine was staring at his naked torso. He brought up his hands and arms to cover his chest and stomach.

“Lie down on your back,” Blaine instructed him, standing up.

Kurt shook his head. “Please, no…I don’t want to.” He looked up at Blaine and tried to appeal to him with his eyes. Blaine paused and his eyes widened a little.

“I’m not going to force myself on you,” he said, sounding a little indignant, “I want to tend to your injuries.”

“Why should I believe you?” Kurt muttered, wanting to sound bitter but instead just sounding petrified.

Blaine smiled at him. “You have no reason to; it’s true. But you’re just going to have to trust me because you have no other choice.”

  


Kurt couldn’t believe himself, but he lay down on the bed, stiff as a board, trembling. Blaine brought a basin over and set it on the bed, propping up a knee beside Kurt’s hip and running his eyes over the length of Kurt’s body, lingering on a cut just above his knee.

“You’ll have to take off your breeches as well,” he said, motioning towards the cut.

Kurt’s hands fluttered to the waistband of his pants. “No, please…I can’t – can’t bear it.” He let his eyes fall shut as silent tears escaped them.

“Is that the only cut below your waist?”

Kurt took a moment to pay attention to the hurts and aches his legs. “Yes.”

“Alright.” Blaine gripped the material of his pant leg around the wound and ripped it, tearing away the bottom section of the pant while leaving the rest intact.

Kurt’s eyes flew open in surprise at this reaction and he studied Blaine cautiously as the outlaw balled up the material of his pant leg and dipped his hand into the basin, wringing out a wet cloth. He was really quite a beautiful man, with a peculiarly aristocratic nose, golden-brown eyes, and striking dark hair that fell in glossy curls. Kurt noticed that he had a couple cuts himself: one had torn the sleeve of his shirt, and the other streaked, shallow, across his chest where the material of his shirt fell open.

Kurt’s breath hitched, and he clung to the blanket underneath him as Blaine brought the wet cloth up to his face.

“I’m really not going to hurt you,” Blaine murmured as he dabbed at the cut on Kurt’s cheek, “you are safe with me. I know it may be hard to believe; I don’t blame you for being doubtful, but I promise you are. I’ve no interest in beating you or bedding you by force.”

Kurt didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed silent, flinching a little when Blaine placed a hand on his bare stomach and used the cloth to clean a nasty cut on his chest.

After he had finished cleaning the cut above Kurt’s knee, Blaine instructed Kurt to lie on his stomach. He did so, his body tense while Blaine wiped the cloth over him, just waiting for him to grab his hips like the other man had and jerk his buttocks into the air.

But he didn’t. He kept working, and after awhile, Kurt realized Blaine was humming, a quiet melody filling the space around them and doing at least a little to help soothe Kurt’s shaking body and wariness.

It was when Blaine took out some plain strips of cloth and began winding them around Kurt’s more serious cuts (one on his back and the one above his knee) that it began to sink in that perhaps Blaine truly did not plan to rape him or beat him.

“If you do not intend to…to…take advantage of me,” Kurt put it delicately, “then why did you order me to be brought to your tent? Will…will you give me to your men for entertainment, then?”

He shuddered at this thought, wished he could grab the words back and swallow them. His face reddened when Blaine paused in his work on his leg and looked up at him.

  


“No,” he said slowly, “quite the contrary. I brought you here to look after your wounds and…well, my men are fairly well-behaved, usually. But, forgive me, you are a very beautiful man, and they have been without the company of their preference for some time now. I thought this a good precautionary measure. So,” he said, standing once the bandage was in place, “you’ll be sleeping in here for tonight, and I’ll be keeping an eye on you during the day, until I figure out what to do with you and your…charming master.”

Kurt nodded shakily, keeping his eyes lowered as he inched to the edge of the bed and began to slide to the ground.

“No, no,” Blaine said, holding his arms to stop him, “you won’t be sleeping on the ground while you’re injured like that. And neither will I,” he added, grinning wolfishly and pointing to the cuts on his body.

Kurt stared at him with wide eyes. “But…you said…”

“I promise I’ll not lay a hand on you. I may be a gentleman, but I’m also an outlaw. So I’ll not have you sleeping on the ground, but nor will I give up my soft bed entirely,” he teased.

Kurt sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, his stomach twisting in knots as Blaine rummaged through a pack. He jumped a little when Blaine whipped around and thrust some clothes into his hands.

“What…?”

“Put those on,” Blaine instructed him, turning around to face away from him.

Kurt hesitated, his eyes drifting to the clearly stolen silver candle holder on Blaine’s table. Could he strike Blaine unconscious and make a run for it? Even if the outlaw had no interest in using him for carnal pleasure, he still risked being killed if he stayed here. He held his breath as he reached over for the candle holder, holding it high above his head, despite his trembling arms, and swung it down –

Suddenly, Blaine’s hand was around his wrist, twisting it painfully so that he dropped the candle holder. Blaine held onto his other arm, too, and pushed him backwards until his legs met the bed and he wound up on his back, Blaine landing on top of him and pinning his arms above his head, the rest of his body held down by Blaine’s. He gasped in pain at the position and averted his eyes, too scared to face Blaine. He could feel the heat of the anger emanating from him.

When Blaine spoke, though, his voice was calm. “Look at me.” Kurt reluctantly met his stern eyes, which were ablaze with indignation. “I understand that you are scared. I would be, too, after what you’ve experienced, and considering the position you’re in now. But I hardly think I’ve done anything to merit a bludgeoning; wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Kurt breathed, shaking, “I’m sorry. I-I wasn’t trying to bludgeon you, j-just knock you unconscious. I’m sorry. I’m very afraid right now, for my body and for my life.”

Blaine’s eyes softened. “I suppose it will take some time for you to believe that I’ll not let any harm come to you. But in the meantime, it seems as though you’re much too quick and clever for me to turn my back.”

  


Kurt’s cheeks burned, but Blaine let go of his wrists and grasped his hand to help him stand again. He handed Kurt the clothes that had been dropped on the ground, but did not turn around again.

Kurt clutched the clothes to his bare chest, positive he was bright red now. “…No man has ever seen me…na – without my clothes.”

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. “Your master kept you clothed while he took his pleasure of you?”

Kurt gaped at his captor. “W – no! I have never – I would never – and in any case he does not think me attractive enough to warrant his abhorrent attentions.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “Well,” he said after a slight pause, “that just confirms that he’s an idiot. And I’m not turning around again. I understand you are modest, though, so I promise I will keep my eyes on your face and nowhere else.”

Kurt trembled, keeping his eyes focused on Blaine’s while trying to figure out a way to put on the clean pants and take off his dirty, ripped ones without exposing himself. He shucked the old ones off quickly, and Blaine kept looking at him right in the eye as he did. He knew he must be blushing furiously, but he stumbled into the pants as fast as he could, his face contorting in pain as he hunched over to pull them on.

Blaine’s eyes were still focused on his face, but he let out a sigh. “You are covered as you were before,” he said, striding forward, “let me help you with the shirt so you don’t strain your injuries.”

Kurt hesitated, but put the shirt in Blaine’s outstretched hand. He shivered when Blaine’s fingers ghosted over his bare skin as he helped him with the shirt.

“Thank you,” Kurt said quietly, “I…I did not expect such kindness…”

“From an outlaw?” Blaine smirked.

“No,” Kurt met his eyes, “from anyone.”

Blaine regarded him for a moment with interest. Then he cleared his throat. “Yes, well, here’s something to eat. I expect you’ve been without for awhile now,” he said, reaching into his pack and tossing Kurt a piece of soft bread wrapped in cloth. “And here,” he added, handing Kurt a couple crab apples.

Kurt stared down at the bounty in disbelief, and to his alarm, he could feel his eyes welling. “I – thank you so much.”

“You can thank me by shutting up that growling belly,” Blaine replied as he slipped off his boots.

Kurt blushed as the gurgling of his stomach made itself known to his own ears. He tucked into the food, letting forth a sound that was most probably inappropriate at his first bite of the soft, buttery bread. He glanced up bashfully to see if Blaine had heard him.

  


His eyes widened at the sight of Blaine’s chest, which was now naked as he shucked off his shirt. Kurt had seen Sebastian half naked many times, but his master’s long, thin frame was nothing like Blaine’s. Blaine was slender as well, but he was built with compact muscles. He was certainly shorter than Sebastian, but there was clearly power in his shorter frame. His skin was sun-kissed and beautiful as it stretched across the muscles in his chest. Kurt’s eyes roved over the muscles and veins in Blaine’s arms until he realized that his captor was hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his pants to pull them down. He quickly averted his eyes and then shuffled to face the opposite way, furiously munching on the food despite his bruised jaw so he wouldn’t be tempted to look at Blaine’s naked form. Well, more tempted than he already was.

His heart thundered in his chest, and a small part of him still wondered if Blaine was going to walk up to him, naked, and demand Kurt offer up his body in exchange for payment for the food and clothes and not killing him. He jumped when Blaine tapped him on the shoulder and turned, relived to see that he was wearing a pair of breeches, at least.

“You’re finished eating? Good. It’s getting late; we should sleep.”

Kurt nodded awkwardly, shuffling over as far as he could to the edge of the bed and lying there stiffly. Blaine chuckled at his tense form.

“Get under the blankets or you’ll freeze. As I promised, I’ll not lay a hand on you. Perhaps a night of undisturbed rest will help you trust me a little more.”

“Why does it matter if I trust you?” Kurt muttered.

“Well, for one, I don’t fancy a blow to the head,” Blaine said, smiling down at Kurt, a hand scratching at his bare chest absentmindedly. Then his expression sobered. “And I don’t relish the look of terror and loathing in your eyes every time they meet mine.”

Kurt averted his eyes but slowly crawled under the covers. It appeared that Blaine perhaps really did not mean him harm. But his mind still reeled at his circumstances; this would be the first time he would share a bed with another man. He squeezed his eyes shut as Blaine blew out the candles and made his way over to the bed. He held his breath when Blaine slid in beside him; he could feel the heat from his body drifting towards him. In a way, he was grateful for the warmth, shivering against the cold, but now that he had a moment to think, his head was whirling as he finally took in the day’s events. His life had been turned completely upside-down. What was to become of him now? Would he become the slave boy of this band of thieves and murderers? Would they keep him trussed up next to Sebastian, enduring his mockery and prattling until their situation was discovered and the ransom paid?

He gripped the scratchy blankets as Blaine shifted next to him, and then started when Blaine spoke, much closer than he had thought, right in his ear.

“You should know,” Blaine whispered, “I sleep very lightly. So it will do no good to try anything with the candle holder again.”

  


Kurt’s entire body was tense as he held onto the blankets. “I…I won’t.”

Blaine laughed softly as he shifted again. Kurt lay still, staring up at the material of the tent as he listened to Blaine’s breathing slow into sleep. He wished he could stay awake and alert, but his entire body was exhausted and aching. Soon, he, too, was dragged into a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor side character death (offscreen)

Kurt woke up in the arms of another person. He stilled immediately, eyes still closed, as the events of the day previous hit him all at once, leaving his mind whirling and his belly flipping nervously. He knew without opening his eyes that his head rested on Blaine’s chest, his arm was wrapped around the ruffian’s torso, and Blaine had one arm around his shoulders and another resting across his stomach.

He didn’t move; the sensation of lying with another person was so strange that he had no idea what to do or how to extract himself gracefully. He thought for a moment, his cheek resting on the gentle rise and fall of Blaine’s chest, and then pushed his foot out, shivering when it reached the cold, undisturbed part of the bed. He felt Blaine take a deep breath and his eyes flew open, but as he tried to move away, Blaine rolled with him, tightening his hold and now lying half on-top of him, nuzzling a cheek against his hair.

“L-let me go, please,” he said quietly, knowing he was in no position to make demands. He stayed perfectly still as Blaine mumbled something he could not quite make out, and then his breath caught in his throat when Blaine stiffened.

Kurt wasn’t aware that he had a hand tightly gripping the blanket covering him until he started to release his hold as Blaine moved away. He let his breath go when Blaine moved off of him and removed his arms from around his body. He watched with cautious eyes as Blaine sat up and rubbed at his eyes with a finger and thumb and then, feeling vulnerable, sat up, too.

Blaine opened his eyes, striking and startlingly attractive underneath thick brows and tousled dark curls. “I apologize,” he said, “for breaking my promise.”

Kurt stared at him in confusion. “Your promise?” he echoed tentatively.

“That I wouldn’t lay a hand on you.”

Kurt flushed and looked down, tracing patterns on the bed with his fingers. “Actually, I…I was lying on you when I woke up,” he told him in a rush, “but thank you all the same. For the apology.”

He glanced up and blushed more when he saw Blaine’s grin.

He really did not know what to make of Blaine, watching as the ruffian moved off the bed, stretching. Gentlemanly promises and courteous apologies were not the general practice of outlaws, so far as he knew. He thought of the first group that had attacked Sebastian’s carriage, how they had struck him and torn off his clothes, and he could not reconcile them with the man before him now, who had dressed his wounds and given him food, clothing, and what seemed to be the promise of safety, at least for now.

“What do you plan to do with us?” Kurt asked quietly as Blaine pulled on a clean tunic.

“Well,” Blaine said, slipping into his boots, “I thought ‘Lord Sebastian’ had a pretty good idea with the whole ransom strategy. I know who he is; he’ll fetch us a pretty penny.”

“And…and me?”

Blaine stared at him as he laced up his boot. “We’ll figure out some way for you to earn your keep. Good, honest work,” he assured him. “Well…as honest as you can get, traveling with a band of thieves,” he added with a wink.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After they breakfasted on bread and berries, they emerged from Blaine’s tent into the sunlight. Kurt blushed when he felt several pairs of eyes fall on them, and wondered what Blaine’s men thought had occurred the night before.

“After a good night’s rest, my men should be sensible enough, but stay close to me in any case,” Blaine told him, and Kurt nodded, making sure to walk right by his side. His eyes roved over the campsite, taking in tents, men cooking food, cleaning weapons, and talking in small groups, and various piles of stolen goods.

“Blaine!” someone called, causing Kurt to jump. The giant who had carried Kurt to Blaine’s tent ran up to them, a bright smile on his face.

“Finn,” Blaine greeted him with a grin, “you seem too chipper for so early. Might I hazard a guess that you abstained from drink last night?”

“I only had a little,” Finn joked back. He looked at Kurt and his face fell. “Blaine, did you…?”

“None of that right now,” Blaine chided him, looking around at several men who were listening closely. He raised his voice. “Well, men, you may have noticed that we have some guests with us,” he called, swinging an arm over Kurt’s shoulders. Kurt cringed when the men laughed. “Any abuse of our guests will not be tolerated. Kurt here is under my personal protection, and his master is worth far too much in ransom to leave any marks on. Am I clear?”

The ruffians all answered in the affirmative, and Kurt sighed in relief even as his face burned at the implication of having the leader’s personal protection. Blaine squeezed his shoulder lightly and indicated to Finn to lead the way.

“This is Finn,” Blaine told Kurt, and Finn turned so that he was walking backwards, stumbling a little.

“Hello,” Finn smiled dopily.

“No need to be afraid of this one,” Blaine said jokingly, “he may be as big as a tree, but he’s harmless.”

“I’m not harmless!” Finn protested belligerently. “I killed two men last night!”

Kurt paled and stared at him in horror.

“Not as many as Blaine, though,” Finn said, and it sounded as though he was trying to be reassuring, “he killed five by my count, including the one who was on top of you when we came upon that band of outlaws. You seemed to really enjoy that kill, Blaine.”

Kurt shook a little as fear, shame, and disgust washed over him.

“Finn,” Blaine said with false-sweetness, “I suggest you turn around and shut up and show us where you lot have stored away our esteemed Lord Sebastian.”

Finn, looking cowed, turned back around, muttering to himself.  
“Pay him no mind,” Blaine whispered to Kurt, “he’s a bit of an idiot.”

Kurt nodded, but he could not make his eyes meet Blaine’s.

Finn led them to a tent in the middle of the grounds, and when Kurt followed in after him, he covered his mouth with one hand so he wouldn’t laugh at the sight of Sebastian, sound asleep on the ground, trussed up so he couldn’t escape.

Finn nudged Sebastian awake with his toe. He snorted as he woke up and opened his eyes. They widened further in indignation when he saw Kurt.

“What the hell is going on? Why am I tied up while he’s walking around free?” Sebastian demanded angrily, beginning to struggle against his bonds.

“Because you’re really very annoying,” Blaine said in a bored tone, “and there was no one around to watch you last night.”

Sebastian’s eyes went back and forth from Kurt, who could feel his cheeks heating up, to Blaine, who was staring down at his captive with faint amusement.

“Oh, I see,” Sebastian drawled as he managed to sit up even with his hands and ankles bound. “Well Kurt, it appears playing the whore for a band of thieves has served you well. Good for you; perhaps you’re better in bed than your weakling appearance suggests.”

“I doubt many of your one-night lovers are all that impressed with your selfish love-making, if your personality is any indication,” Kurt snapped. The other men all stared at him and he put a hand over his mouth, his eyes bugging out at his own gall.

Sebastian recovered quickly. “Why, you little insubordinate maggot! When I get out of these ropes I’ll show-"

“I think he’ll need a gag as well, Finn,” Blaine said pleasantly.

“What?” Sebastian squawked as Finn pulled out a handkerchief and stepped towards him.

“Your voice is far too grating for early in the morning,” Blaine explained, gesturing for Kurt to follow him out of the tent, “Finn give him some bread and water before you shut him up. Oh, and Lord Sebastian? If you can be better behaved, I may consider untying you once we begin our travels.”

“Bread and water? This is barbaric!”

Sebastian’s protests were muffled once Kurt and Blaine were outside and Blaine lowered the tent flap behind him.

“Good God, how do you stand it?” Blaine exclaimed as he led Kurt over to the next tent.

“When someone is paying wages that feed your ailing father and provide for your livelihood, you learn to tolerate them.”

He glanced at Blaine and was startled to see that he looked quite pensive. Kurt didn’t ask about it; he was still too shaken from the previous day’s events and the thought of Blaine slaughtering men with the ease of a knife passing through butter.

He spent the morning shadowing Blaine as he checked on horses, spoke with his fellow ruffians, took stock of their stolen goods, and gave out instructions to scouts and hunters. He seemed well-liked and respected by his men, many of whom glanced at Kurt appraisingly but seemed to know better than to inquire. He felt hot embarrassment at what he knew must be their assumptions about his stay in Blaine’s tent, but supposed their guesses would be worse if they were correct.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blaine took Kurt back to his tent for lunch: roast pheasant and bread. Kurt was glad for the food, but he couldn’t really enjoy it, not when everything in his life seemed so temporary and at the whim of other men.

“Are you going to kill me?” he asked Blaine plainly.

Blaine jerked back a little and stared at him in surprise.  
“It’s just that…I’d rather know now. So I know what’s coming and don’t have to spend each moment agonizing over it. You…seem to have no use of me, I’ll fetch no ransom.”

“I don’t kill needlessly,” Blaine said slowly, and he actually looked insulted.

Kurt bit his lip. He knew it was foolish and reckless to press on, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “You killed many men yesterday. Finn told me so.” He worried at his lip before looking at Blaine, who had an alarmingly fierce expression on his face.

“There are no magistrates, no lawmen or sheriffs or executioners in the forest, Kurt,” Blaine bit out between his teeth, and Kurt stiffened, worried suddenly at the angry look in Blaine’s eyes, and ready for at least a slap. But Blaine did not move towards him or raise his hand to strike him. “There is no law out here. But there is justice, if you choose to pursue it. Our attack on that band of outlaws was no excursion for entertainment or riches.” Blaine paused, clenching his jaw and looking away from Kurt. “Those men…what they planned to do to you is what they do to any captives they take. They’re well known for such acts. And last month, they captured one of my men. He was a young scout, and a good lad overall.”

Kurt stared at him in horror.

Blaine looked at him again. “They took him one morning…and a fortnight later, they sent me his head in a box.”

Kurt quickly put down his food, twisting his hands in his lap. He noticed that Blaine had crushed the piece of bread in his closed and shaking fist.

“I…I’m sorry,” Kurt said quietly, heart thundering in his chest. “I didn’t know…”

“Our attack was retribution,” Blaine told him fiercely, “and I had no idea who you were, but when I saw that man about to do to you what they did to Rory, I had to kill him with my own two hands.”

Blaine stood up abruptly and walked out of the tent. Kurt sat still for a moment, hands gripping his knees to stop from shaking as his stomach churned with queasy waves. Then he slowly rose and walked outside.

Blaine was standing on the other side of the tent, out of view of the rest of the camp. Kurt saw his head shift to the side a little as he approached him. He took a deep breath and placed his hand gently on Blaine’s shoulder, feeling relieved when Blaine didn’t jerk away or knock his hand off.

“You are a good man,” Kurt said quietly, clearly, “I…I can see that you are.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The seed of trust had been planted in Kurt's mind. The passionate way in which Blaine spoke about his fallen comrade and the need for justice had moved Kurt. He observed Blaine for the rest of the day, how he smiled and joked with his fellow outlaws, how he worked as hard as anyone else at camp tasks, despite being the leader. He determined that Blaine was not at all what he had imagined a dangerous highwayman would be.

"You are very odd for an outlaw," he told Blaine that night when they had retired to Blaine's tent. He was hovering near the entrance, not sure what to do. Was he to sleep on the ground now? He was certain Blaine would not let him out of his sight, so another tent was out of the question. Blaine looked up from where he sat on the bed unlacing his boots.

"Is that so?"

Kurt held his arms. "I suppose I haven't much experience with outlaws since I hadn't ever met one until yesterday when I embarked on this godforsaken journey, but yes, I think so. I'm not certain what to make of you."

Blaine smiled and crossed the room. "You can come further inside, you know," he told Kurt, and he reached forward and took Kurt's hand in his own, "I'll not have you sleeping in to doorway of the tent."

Dazed at the feel of another man's appealingly calloused and rough hand gently holding his own, Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes and let him lead him into the tent a couple of paces. But then he pulled his hand away and hugged himself.

"I...I-I'm not..." Kurt stared over Blaine's shoulder, unable to meet his eyes now, "I don't understand what it is you want from me," he finally whispered.

He heard Blaine sigh and winced. "I suppose as a servant you've learned your whole life that people will always demand something of you. Well, Kurt, I'll demand nothing of you. We can sleep on the bed just as we did last night, and perhaps sometime soon you'll realize you can trust me."

"I think I do."

"What?"

"I...I think I do trust you," Kurt said slowly, looking into Blaine's eyes once again. "I know it's ridiculous to trust a thief and an outlaw, but...you've been so kind to me. Kinder than any nobleman ever has."

Blaine scratched his neck. "Yes, well..."

"I'm just out of sorts," Kurt continued, wringing his hands, "and...until last night, I'd never shared a bed with another man. And everything in the past two days has been terrifying and bizarre and I don't know where I stand or when your patience will run out..." He trailed off helplessly.

Blaine was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at him. There was a softness in Blaine's eyes when Kurt looked into them that startled him. He extended his hand out and Kurt found himself placing his hand in Blaine's.

"I promise you that right here, in this space, you are safe," Blaine told him, leading him to sit on the bed, "and I'll never demand anything in return for your safety. I've been living this rough life for some time now, so I forgot how alarming it must all seem to someone innocent. But right now, we can sleep, and you can dream without fear. And I swear to you, my patience knows no bounds," Blaine added with a wink. Kurt found himself smiling tentatively.

When he succumbed to slumber, Kurt's fingers were still laced with Blaine's.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few days, Kurt grew accustomed to waking up in Blaine’s arms. They seemed drawn towards one another during their slumber. Every morning began with apologies from Blaine and blusheS from Kurt, but by week’s end, it seemed as though both had decided to just accept they would be waking up pressed together.

True to his word, Blaine did not demand Kurt do anything for his safety, but he did enlist Kurt to help around the camp to earn his keep. Kurt was happy to oblige; the work Blaine had him do was more enjoyable than his time spent serving Sebastian had been. When he revealed he was good with a needle and thread, Blaine had tasked him with repairing battle-torn clothes. He also spent much of his time caring for the outlaws’ horses. He had been impressed to find that most of the horses were well cared for and healthy, if dirty. He liked washing them clean, brushing their hair until their coats were smooth and glossy, and weaving their manes into neat braids.

Finn or Blaine was always close by, and Kurt wondered if this was for his protection, or to stop him from trying to escape. He hope Blaine trusted him enough for it to be the latter.

One afternoon, while Blaine was busy planning a raid with a few men and Finn was helping Kurt learn how to whittle, Finn told him that Sebastian had been asking to see him.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “Really? Whatever for?”

Finn shrugged. “I don’t know. So should I take you to go see him? He’s still in the same tent. I take him for walks sometimes so he doesn’t lose the use of his legs, but he’s really annoying. And mean. Maybe if you went to see him, he’d stop being so mean.”

“I doubt that,” Kurt told him wryly, “but I might as well go see what he wants.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sebastian sat on a small cot, hands bound, looking incredibly bored. Blaine had told Kurt he would have let Sebastian free by now like he had Kurt, if only Sebastian hadn’t vowed to slit their throats while they slept.

“Sebastian?” Kurt looked at him suspiciously.

“Oh Kurt! How nice to see you. I’ve missed you and thought we could have a little chat. I’m dreadfully bored.”

“Excuse me?” Sebastian was giving him a friendly smile, and Kurt returned it with a bewildered look.

Sebastian began to prattle on about his life back home and Kurt stayed silent, wondering what was happening. Sebastian had never been this cordial towards him before.

Suddenly, Sebastian turned to Finn with a smile. “Finn, have you spoken with Blaine yet?”

Finn frowned in confusion. “Not since this morning.”

“Oh, well, you should go find him. He told me he really needed to speak with you when he came to visit not a half hour ago.”

Kurt frowned at that. Why had Blaine come to visit Sebastian? He said he annoyed him.

Finn stumbled toward the opening of the tent. “Oh! Well, I’d better go find him. I’ll be right back,” he told Kurt, and ducked out.

“Don’t just stand there, you imbecile; untie these ropes! This is our chance to escape!”

Kurt blinked at Sebastian. “Pardon?”

“Don’t be a fool! I’ve cleverly sent that idiot away, and now is our only chance! Untie me!”

Kurt laughed. “No; why would I do that?”

Sebastian’s eyed widened with indignant fury. “How dare you disobey a direct order?!”

“Where would we go?” Kurt tried to reason with him. “We haven’t a clue where we are or how to get where we need to be. And obviously these forests are rife with bandits and murderers; how do you propose we would survive even half a day without the protection of these men?”

“Oh I see,” Sebastian said silkily, “you’ve bought their leader’s protection by warming his bed, and now you think you’re above me somehow. Make no mistake, you little wretch. Playing the heathen’s whore will only protect you until he grows bored of you. I am of noble blood, and it is what courses through my veins that keeps me alive and unharmed. I suppose, now that he’s fucked you, you believe him to be in love with you? You are so stupid. If I offered him the pleasure of my company right now, he’d toss you to his men like a scrap of meat to fight over. He doesn’t desire you for you; how could anyone? He’ll fuck anything with two legs. And now that you’ve refused to release me, I’ll have you beaten black and blue when we arrive at the estate of my fiancé.”

“You do not need assumptions to make you an ass,” Kurt said with a smile, even as his cheeks burned, “but they certainly don’t hurt. I’ll not help you pursue nor join you on a fool’s errand. And as you are tied up and I am not, I’ll not subject myself to your presence a moment longer.”

He turned to leave but paused when he heard a rush of footsteps outside the tent, and Blaine’s voice, snarling, “Your gullibility really is most inconvenient, Finn!”

Kurt leaped back a little as the tent flap snapped open and Blaine darted inside, his eyes settling on Sebastian and then shifting quickly to Kurt.  
“Oh.” The tension left Blaine’s shoulders, and he seems to sag a little with relief.

Kurt crossed his arms, pursing his lips. “Did you really think I’d be so stupid as to run away?”

“I…” Blaine faltered.

“Well, now that you know your ransom prize is still present, and Sebastian has kindly reminded me of how worthless I am, I think I shall take my leave,” Kurt snapped, and strode out of the tent. Finn shuffled aside to let him pass.

“Kurt!” Blaine soon caught up with him.

“You know, I’ve no choice but to trust you. I never have a choice,” Kurt said bitterly, kicking at the ground as he walked, “perhaps you could find it within yourself to trust me in return.”

He wasn’t certain why he was speaking to Blaine so angrily. He felt a lump in his throat as though he could cry. Why did he expect to mean anything to a ruffian besides the ransom gold his master could fetch?

Blaine sighed, falling into step beside him. “Most don’t take well to being held against their will. I wouldn’t blame you for running.”

“I have more sense than that; or do you think so little of my intellect? Just a stupid servant boy!”

Blaine stayed silent, and Kurt huffed, impatient with himself.

“I apologize,” he said quietly, “Sebastian said some things that made me feel small; I’m angry with him, not you.”

Blaine smiled. “Perhaps I’ll go have a chat with him, and remind him that a lovely gag awaits him if he can’t keep a civil tongue in his head.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt didn’t see Blaine the rest of the day, though Finn continued to shadow him.

“I think I’ve proven I will not run away if given the chance,” Kurt sniffed, “so there is no need to be my watchdog.”

Finn ducked his head. “It is more about looking after you than keeping you prisoner.”

“Oh.” Kurt felt a spark of affection for the lumbering oaf.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When Blaine walked into the tent that night, Kurt wasn’t sure how to speak with him. He knew it was stupid to have felt apologetic towards someone who was technically holding him prisoner, but he also knew things were more complicated than that.

He cleared his throat as Blaine slipped off his boots. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Unremarkable.” Blaine smiled at him. “Well, aside from my talk with the noble Lord Sebastian.”

“Oh? You spoke to him, then?”

“It was quite the interesting conversation,” Blaine said, grinning.

“Is that so?” Kurt gripped his hands nervously, his eyebrows arching.

“Indeed.” Blaine slipped off his shirt and Kurt looked to the left, his cheeks burning. Blaine sat down on the bed cross-legged, gazing up at Kurt, and patted the space beside him. Kurt tentatively lowered himself onto the spot, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his hands over his knee.

“First,” Blaine continued, looking faintly amused, “he offered to warm my bed.”

Kurt let out an embarrassing choking noise and looked at Blaine again. He was sure he was bright red. “Truly?! What…what did you say?”

“I told him I was honored by his offer…but I was not interested. He seemed very surprised by that. Quite insulted.”

“Yes, well,” Kurt scrambled to hide his relief, “his general assumption seems to be that no one would…reject his advances.”

“Vulnerable servants are a mite easier to convince than outlaws, I’d imagine,” Blaine muttered, and he looked down at his hands. He seemed upset, and Kurt could not think why he would be. “In any case, he grew rather angry, and he…ah, threatened me with the wrath of his fiancé-to-be.”

Again, Blaine seemed very amused. “This does not worry you?”

“No.” Blaine bit his lip, smiling. “I think he overestimates how much his fiancé will be of assistance.”

Kurt frowned. “I wouldn’t be so certain. From what I’ve heard, the man is very wealthy and comes from a very old, powerful family.”

“Yes, he mentioned his name,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt closely, “Lord Edward of Westerton, son of the Duke of Dalton. What do you think of such a man?”

Kurt shrugged, picking at a thread. “In truth, I only know what Lord Sebastian has told me: that Westerton is rich, powerful, handsome, and a skilled lo-“ he stopped, blushing, and looked up at Blaine. But Blaine simply looked at him calmly, a small smile playing on his lips as he rested his chin in his hand. “S-skilled lover. So I don’t think much of him one way or another,” Kurt finished, and though embarrassment washed over him, he seemed trapped by Blaine’s gaze, unable to look away.

“All that power, the wealth…you find no appeal in it?”

“No,” Kurt whispered, “That is, I cannot imagine what such a life would be like. All I can think is that if riches and power produce men like Sebastian, then I want nothing to do with them.” He took a breath, mustering a smile in an effort to relax, though his skin felt like it was on fire with the way Blaine was looking at him. “But I suppose as a leader of thieves, wealth and power are what you desire above all else.”

“Perhaps,” Blaine said, his eyes glittering in the glow of the candlelight, “perhaps not.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blaine informed Kurt that he and Sebastian had agreed upon a ransom sum (twenty times the money Kurt hoped to see in his life), and the following morning, they began their travels north to the Westerton estate.

Sebastian was tossed in the back of a wagon, still tied up, but Kurt was allowed to walk like a free man, though the prospect of resuming his position as Sebastian’s servant once they reached their destination reminded him that he certainly was not. Blaine had a horse, but he elected to walk beside Kurt, claiming his beloved Pavarotti still needed rest after slipping a shoe during the last raid.

Blaine could not spend all his time with Kurt, however, and regularly left him to walk on his own so that he could discuss what Kurt assumed to be various outlaw matters with his men. During those times, Kurt spoke mostly with Finn, though he did exchange somewhat friendly words with a couple other ruffians: a quiet man from the East named Michael who enjoyed dancing by the fire to tune of a pipe, and an intimidating fellow who refused to reveal his given name and insisted on being called Puck. Puck had an odd hairstyle: bald but for a strip of hair down the center of his head, and his ears were pierced with hoops of silver. Kurt thought is best not to comment on his strange appearance, since he seemed an easily angered man, and the only person capable of ruffling Finn’s feathers. The two of them had to be pulled apart from several rounds of fisticuffs over the next few days.

Despite his growing circle of acquaintance among the thieves, Kurt found himself quite unhappy. The days spent traveling were hot and exhausting, and the knowledge of what he was walking towards did not cheer him. The best parts of his days were at night, when he and Blaine would exchange quiet words and Kurt would fall asleep watching the rise and fall of Blaine’s chest beside him, and early morning, when he would wake up in Blaine’s arms, though he blushed to admit the latter, even if only to himself.

As a servant, he was not accustomed to a pampered lifestyle, but he still felt disheartened and generally moody. He confessed as much on the sixth night when Blaine goaded him in to explaining his sour disposition.

“Sebastian cannot resist telling me of how he plans to make me suffer, and I feel as though this journey is akin to a death march. My feet are covered in blisters, I’m burnt red, having no relief from the sun, and Puck and Finn’s incessant squabbling over some barmaid they’re both besotted with makes me want to smack both of them. And I stink, Blaine! I haven’t had a real bath in a week! I may be poor, but I’ve never neglected my own cleanliness like this before!”

He fell silent at Blaine’s wide-eyed stare, embarrassed at his childish complaining, and hoping Blaine would not scoff and call him delicate.

Instead, Blaine lifted the collar of his shirt to his nose and made a face. He stood up and offered a hand to Kurt, grinning.

“Perhaps a midnight swim can solve at least one of those problems.”


	5. Chapter 5

Swimming in the moonlight naturally appealed to Kurt’s romantic nature, particularly when his companion could make him blush with a glance. His current situation had him feeling vulnerable in an entirely different way than he had that first night alone with Blaine in his tent. He felt both terrified and exhilarated.

Kurt tried not to stare too obviously at the glow of Blaine’s bare skin as he stripped down to simple breeches. He stood, lacing his hands together nervously, as Blaine climbed up onto a ledge a ways away and, with a whoop, dove into the small lake Blaine had led him to. Blaine surfaced, shaking out his curls, and swam closer (treating Kurt to the sight of the muscles of his arms and back working to move him through the water) so that he could stand where the water came up to his chest.

“Well?” Blaine’s thick eyebrows rose expectantly while Kurt played with the hem of his shirt.

“Turn around, please,” Kurt ordered, tilting his chin up.

Blaine grinned but complied, whirling around with a flourish to face away. Kurt quickly removed his clothes so that he, too, wore just breeches, shivering a little in the chill of the night air. He slipped into the water, which seemed warm in comparison, and swam out past Blaine so that the water came up to his neck.

Blaine had his eyes closed and a playful smile twitched at his lips. “May I open my eyes, then?”

“You may,” Kurt told him grandly, glad for the depth of the water. He blushed to remember that he had been naked once in front of Blaine, but Blaine had preserved his modesty by keeping his eyes on his face, an act about which Kurt had felt immensely grateful for and surprised at Blaine's chivalry. Still, his shyness overtook him in moments such as these, and while Blaine regularly walked around half-naked in his tent, Kurt never felt quite so bold.

They swam around for a bit, and Blaine climbed out of the water only to dive back in while Kurt scrubbed himself as clean as he could.

Blaine swam up to him. “Your hair’s still dry. You haven’t gone under the water completely yet.”

“Don’t force me!” Kurt told him warningly, backing up a step  
.  
“I won’t” Blaine assured him, though he placed his hands on his shoulders and pressed down lightly. “But you should go under all the same.”

Kurt sunk down, and was shocked at how soothing the cool water felt on his sun burnt face. He surfaced with a smile, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “That feels much better!” He opened his eyes to find Blaine staring at him. “Am I very red?”

“Not so red,” Blaine told him, and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat when Blaine’s hand cradled his jaw, his thumb brushing over his cheek. “More, a rather…becoming shade of pink.”

Perhaps it was only a few fleeting seconds, but it felt as though Kurt spent an eternity looking into Blaine’s eyes, dark and lidded in the dim light of the moon. His heart thrummed in his chest at the feel of Blaine’s thumb grazing over his skin, the way he held his face so gently.

Blaine dropped his hand, looking to the shore. “Perhaps we should head back. I-“

But Kurt cut the words off, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Blaine's.

The sensation of Blaine’s soft, slightly chapped lips against his was fleeting. Kurt quickly pulled back, shocked at his own daring. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at Blaine, who was staring back at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open a little.

Words died in Kurt’s throat. It was a novel problem for him; he was used to holding his tongue when necessary, but not used to needing words and not being able to produce them.

It finally occurred to him to take a breath, and he did just that, breathing in through his nose and opening his mouth to speak, but Blaine suddenly moved his hand away from his face and pressed their mouths together once more.

Kurt’s eyelids fluttered shut and he reeled back slightly from the force with which Blaine kissed him. Blaine’s lips were gentle but insistent, and he splayed his long-fingered hand along the side of Kurt’s face. They stood with their lips pressed together for only a second until Kurt realized Blaine was waiting for him to respond, and so he did, wrapping a hand around his bicep.

As soon as Kurt kissed back, Blaine started walking Kurt backwards, slipping an arm around his waist. Kurt raised a shaky hand to rest on Blaine’s cheek, and he felt Blaine’s fingertips press a little harder against his face. For a moment, all he was aware of was the soft, wet sand beneath his feet, the hammering of his heart, and the way Blaine’s mouth moved with his, parting his lips to suck his bottom lip between his own.

His back hit the bank and he gasped, his mouth opening a little, and he shivered when he felt Blaine’s tongue teasing at his mouth, just grazing against his own.

Kissing Blaine, being kissed by Blaine, was decadent, sweet, terrifying, heady, potent, and his head swirled with a thousand feelings in the space of a minute. He clung to the outlaw as much out of nervousness as he did with desire.

He felt faint and leaned back just a little. Blaine’s arm tightened around his waist, but he seemed to understand, and he eased out of their kiss, brushing his lips once more over Kurt’s.

Their foreheads pressed together, and after a moment Kurt opened his eyes, somewhat relieved to see the labored rise and fall of Blaine’s chest, which mirrored his own gasps for air. Kurt fought back the smile that threatened to stretch wide across his face, feeling it twitch at the corners of his tingling lips.

“I’ve…never done that before,” he confessed quietly, giddy inside, “kissed a man. Or...or anyone, really.”

Blaine’s eyes slid open, but he said nothing. His brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down.

Kurt pulled back, or tried to, considering he was pressed against the lake’s bank, his own smile slipping into a worried frown. “Was it…was I no good at it?” It had felt wonderful to him, but perhaps that was because he didn’t know any better.

Blaine laughed softly. “On the contrary,” he assured Kurt, and he leaned forward to cover his mouth with his own again in a long, lingering kiss that left Kurt feeling drunk. He whispered against Kurt’s lips: “It was very,” a quick kiss, “very,” another, “good.” He sighed and held Kurt’s face in both of his hands. “I’ve just yearned to do that for quite some time now.”

“Have you?” Kurt flushed at the breathy quality of his voice and swallowed heavily. “Why didn’t you, then?”

“You are, in the strictest sense, still my prisoner. I don’t want to take advantage of your situation.” And Blaine ducked his head, certainly the most bashful behavior Kurt had ever seen from him.

Kurt cupped his chin in his hand and tilted his face up. “You are not taking advantage. I was the one to first kiss you, was I not?” He felt suddenly very proud of this fact, and knew that it made an important difference in Blaine’s mind, though he could scarcely believe he had done it at all.

Blaine grinned, his eyes full of warmth even in the cool light of the moon. “That you did. And did you like it?”

Kurt bit his lip to prevent himself from spouting poetry about the pleasures of kissing Blaine. “I did,” he replied, raising his eyebrows in an attempt at worldliness.

“Very good, then.” Blaine’s grin widened. “I need hesitate no longer. Come, let’s back to the tent.” And with this, he grasped Kurt’s hand under the water and began to pull him towards the shore.

The water grew shallow, and when it reached Kurt’s waist, he pulled his hand from Blaine’s and retreated a little, crossing his arms over his naked chest, all pretense of sophistication lost.

Blaine turned to look at him, confused. “Kurt? What’s wrong?”

Kurt hesitated, his face hot from more than his sunburn. “I kissed you, but I…that doesn’t mean that I want to…make love with you,” he trailed off awkwardly, avoiding Blaine’s eyes.

“Kurt, kissing me does not change anything. I’ll demand nothing of you, and I will not take what is not willingly offered. Above all else, you are safe with me.”

Kurt was used to waking up in Blaine’s arms, but falling asleep in his embrace was a new experience. They held each other close in the dark, exchanging lazy kisses, and it was warm and easy and so, so good. Their fingers were laced together once again, and Kurt felt Blaine’s breath on his cheek as his eyelids drooped shut. His last fleeting thought was to wonder if Blaine's promise of safety included Kurt's heart.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine announced to his men the next morning that they would be staying in their current location for the next few days before heading to Carmel, a town a few days away. He told his fellow ruffians that he wanted them and their horses to rest, but Kurt could not help but blush to think of the real reason for the delay.

“I’m postponing our journey for a few days,” Blaine had said after the long, sweet kiss that woke Kurt from his slumber, “We are in no rush, after all. I want to spend some time with you, not constantly walking and surrounded by two dozen other men, but just with you. And we shall do whatever you like.”

“I like this,” Kurt had whispered, pleased that his sleep-roughened voice made his words sound quite alluring, and leaned up to kiss Blaine again.

They spent the next couple days and nights flirting and kissing and generally enjoying themselves. They swam in the lake each night, kissing feverishly until Kurt shied away from the obvious evidence of their desire. Blaine started to teach Kurt some basic combat skills, both with swords and daggers and hand-to-hand, and when they were alone, this ended in them wrestling each other to the ground and then kissing (though Kurt began to suspect, given his lack of fighting experience, that it should not be so easy for him to best Blaine and end up half on top of him). They found patches of blueberries and raspberries to pick, enjoying the sun-ripened fruit as they sprawled in the shade of a tree. This also resulted in kissing.

Somehow everything seemed to result in more kisses, not that Kurt minded in the least.

On one such occasion, when their lips and tongues were stained red and purple from berries, Blaine kissed Kurt in a new way, one he had only hinted at in the past, when he would tease at Kurt’s lips with the tip of his tongue.

But this time, Kurt felt Blaine’s tongue run along his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, and he found himself letting his mouth fall open. Blaine slid his tongue inside, and, after flicking his tongue along the roof of Kurt’s mouth and making him shudder, he massaged Kurt’s tongue with his own leisurely. Kurt responded tentatively, but that tentativeness turned to eagerness when Blaine pulled him closer. He gripped Blaine’s arms hard while their tongues danced together, teasing and stroking, until they pulled apart, panting.

“That…that…” Kurt’s loss for words was becoming a frustratingly regular occurrence around Blaine. He tilted his head back when Blaine ducked down to press a soft kiss to his throat.

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered, and the name sounded like a prayer on his lips, as he ran his hands along Kurt’s sides and then up his back. He pressed another chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips, grinning. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” Kurt told him, sliding his hand to rest against Blaine’s face. “More,” he demanded, his heart fluttering both with delight at his own boldness and in anticipation of Blaine’s tongue inside his mouth again.

Unfortunately, Finn chose that moment to lumber by their spot under the tree, catching them with their lips locked. He spent all of the next morning teasing Kurt until Kurt could take no more.

“Seeing as your only experience with romance entails fighting with Puck every other day over the nigh infamous barmaid Quinn, I hardly think you have room to talk, Finn,” Kurt snapped, blushing furiously after the fifth time Finn had told him to stop mooning over Blaine. Finn ducked his head and Kurt’s angry words seemed to shut him up, but Kurt still stalked away from where they were carving arrows out of birch wood to go pick berries on his own.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt strode towards Blaine’s tent, carefully cradling the blueberries he had picked in the front of his shirt and happily anticipating sharing the fruit with Blaine, and perhaps the sweet-tart kisses that would follow. He was about to call out to him when he heard murmurings coming from inside, and so slowed to a stop outside the entrance.

“-that you’ve had the boy for a while now, and some of the others think it’s time to share.”

“’Some of the others’ meaning you.”

“Not just me!” Kurt recognized the voice as belonging to one of the highwaymen he had chosen to avoid, a fellow named William whose smile did not reach his eyes. “The point is, Blaine, I don’t see why you’re keeping him all to yourself.”

“He isn’t a toy, Will. Leave it.”

“If you told him to, he would. He’s spreading his thighs for you; I doubt he’d put up much of a fight against anyone else who wished to enjoy him.”

Kurt felt a hot wave of shame wash over him, even though William’s assumptions were not true.

There was a moment of silence, then: “I-I didn’t mean it like that, Blaine, I-“

“Get out of my sight,” Blaine’s voice was low and dangerous, “before I have you flogged. You may stay with the group until we reach Carmel, and then you are no longer welcome among us.”

“But-"

“Now!”

Kurt hastened round the corner of the tent, careful not to drop any of the berries. The flap to the tent whipped forward and William strode out angrily, muttering under his breath. “I’ll show that boy who should be leading this group!”

Kurt found Finn and Michael and shared his pickings with them, too humiliated to face Blaine.. He let Michael and Finn, soon joined by Puck and another man with exotic features similar to Michael’s named Wesley, devour the fruit, smacking their lips, while he stewed in his own thoughts.

He wondered how many of the men viewed him as Blaine’s whore. Was it just William and Sebastian, or did others just think of him as a thing they would use for pleasure once Blaine was tired of him? He didn’t think Finn or Michael regarded him in that manner, but Puck’s crude comments sometimes gave him pause. He supposed it didn’t truly matter, but what really bothered him above all else were the treacherous doubts that nagged at him every now and then: he had not made love with Blaine, but what if he ever decided to? What would Blaine think of him then? He guessed that Blaine was not a virgin, but it seemed as though most of the outlaws did not think much of those who lay with them, as though a different standard applied.

He shook his head, angry at himself for his own thoughts. Many of the men were rough, but Michael was surprisingly gentle and Finn good-natured enough. And Blaine had done nothing but surprise Kurt in his expectations of what a highwayman would be like.

In truth, he could not imagine actually deciding to make love with Blaine. When he thought back to how those other men had attacked him, pushing him to all fours, and grinding against him roughly, jeering and groping, leaving bruises wherever their hands traveled, he felt sick, squeezing his eyes shut and shuddering with shame and disgust. Blaine was exceedingly gentle, but Kurt could not imagine that the reality of sex would be much different from what those men had attempted to do. In any case, he doubted Blaine would want him if he ever actually looked at his naked body, if Kurt ever found the confidence to expose himself so completely.

He spent the rest of the day avoiding Blaine, plagued with doubts and worries and humiliation. He spent his time with Finn, who thankfully refrained from more teasing, and they worked side-by-side silently, whittling walking sticks and carving staffs and arrows.

Kurt lingered by the fire later than usual that night, watching on as Michael and David, a friendly Moor who had once pronounced Kurt “endearing”, broke up yet another fight between Finn and Puck, who were once again at odds over Quinn. Sebastian had been brought out by the fire for good – well, tolerable – behavior and watched the two ruffians trade blows in amusement. Thankfully, Kurt was seated across the fire from him and did not have to listen to his commentary or snide insults.

He felt stupid for avoiding Blaine, and now that he had done so all day, Blaine would surely want to know what was wrong, and one look in his eyes would have Kurt confessing his humiliation at overhearing the conversation with William.

He stubbornly delayed such an event, staring resolutely into the dancing flames of the fire as Puck played the pipe and Michael showed off with a series of flips and kicks until he had reason to hope Blaine had fallen asleep. Perhaps after a night of rest, he would be refreshed and ready for an awkward conversation with Blaine.

When he finally left the fire, he kept his steps light and careful as he headed towards Blaine’s tent. He stopped short when he saw a figure creeping quietly to the dark tent. The figure paused at the entrance, looking around. It was William. Kurt’s heart plummeted as William slipped inside and he saw him pull a dagger from his boot.

Kurt ran to the tent as quickly and quietly as he could. He had no physical advantage on William, but if he could get close enough…

His heart hammered in his chest as he grabbed the knife Finn had given him for whittling from his belt and ducked into the tent, biting back a yell when he saw William standing over Blaine’s sleeping form, raising the dagger over his head. Kurt rushed forward the last few steps, light and quick, gripping William’s golden curls and yanking his head back, pressing the blade to his throat.

“Drop the dagger to the ground,” he ordered. His voice came out much more high and shrill than he had intended, but he was proud that his hand was not shaking. Blaine’s eyes opened at the sound of his voice, and he sat up as William’s dagger clattered to the ground.

“What-?”

“Now…now, this is all a misunderstanding,” William panted, his body shifting a little under Kurt’s hold on his head.

“What’s to misunderstand?” Kurt cried. “You were about to kill him in his sleep!” Now his hand was trembling, and the tip of his knife pressed a little too hard against the vulnerable skin of William’s throat, drawing a bead of blood and a hiss of pain.

Blaine rose up onto his knees, drawing a dagger of his own from behind the bed and pointing it at William’s face. “I see you trying to twist out of his grasp, Will, and that would be a mistake.”

“What’s the difference?” William laughed, high and panicked. “I’m dead no matter what I do.”

“It’s the difference between a quick execution and a brutal killing,” Blaine said coldly, and Kurt stared at him over William’s shoulder. Blaine’s eyes shifted to Kurt’s and softened slightly.

“Thank you, Kurt. You can let go of him now. I have this under control.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Off screen minor character death

William was dealt with swiftly and formally. He received a fair trial (well, as fair as could be arranged, when judge and jury were made up of a group of men loyal to Blaine) and was executed for mutiny and attempted murder.

“And I shudder to think what would have happened to you had he succeeded,” Blaine murmured to Kurt the following night, holding him close and pressing kisses to his face while he whispered his thanks and admiration over and over. “You were magnificent. My hero.”

“I thought my heart was about to burst from my chest, I was so terrified,” Kurt confessed, “I don’t know how you do those kinds of things every day. Though, I suppose it seems quite ordinary when you’ve been an outlaw for years.” Kurt hadn’t watched the execution, but he could find no fault in the decision to put William to death. His feelings for Blaine aside, not only was the man guilty of trying to murder his own leader, but he knew full well that William had likely planned to rape him once Blaine was dead. He burrowed closer to Blaine under the blankets at these horrible thoughts.

“I…I actually haven’t been an outlaw all that long, you know,” Blaine said, “just for a year, now.”

“Truly?” Kurt sat up to look down at him, glad for the change in conversation, and Blaine shifted onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. “You must be very persuasive, then, to have climbed to the top of the heap in such a short time.”

Blaine grinned, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s arm. “Bands of highwaymen are much less concerned than formal armies with proper protocol and procedure when it comes to rising in the ranks.”

“Just a year…what was your life like before this? I imagine it must’ve been quite terrible, to leave it and become a highwayman.” Kurt frowned, trying to imagine how difficult Blaine’s life must have been, that it had turned such a secretly sweet man onto such a rough way of life.

Blaine looked away, but Kurt could see a frown on the corner of his mouth.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he told him softly, turning Blaine’s face back around and leaning down for a kiss. Blaine reached up and tugged Kurt down to lie beside him, kissing him firmly. He pulled back, looking into Kurt’s eyes and wrapping a hand around the back of his neck.

“You are far too good to be living like this,” Blaine murmured, kissing him again.

Kurt closed his eyes and coaxed Blaine’s lips apart, humming his pleasure as he slid his tongue against Blaine’s, but he couldn’t help feeling a peculiar sadness at Blaine’s words. He willed the feeling away, pressing closer to Blaine, placing his hand on his chest and savoring the feel of the increasing pace of the beat of his heart, his worries from the day previous forgotten for the time being.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The group spent the next two days in the same spot, but no one wanted to stay near the burial place of a mutineer for long, and so they began their travels anew.

Kurt found traveling much more enjoyable now. He knew some of the other men a little better, and he and Blaine enjoyed sparring in the evenings. Blaine complimented him frequently on his progress, and he couldn’t help but beam with pride when he went up against Wesley for a match with the quarterstaffs and managed to best him, if only just. Blaine’s grin mirrored his own, and he had felt especially daring that night, pulling Blaine down to lie right on top of him as they kissed (though they ended up side-by-side soon enough when Kurt became uncomfortable).

He also discovered that he and Blaine shared a love of music and singing, and they sang to each other regularly: sweet, romantic ballads, or joking limericks as the mood suited them. Blaine’s jaw had dropped the first time he heard Kurt truly sing, and he cut off the clear, high notes with an impulsive kiss that lasted quite a while and resulted in them laughing and singing the rest of the song through kiss-stung lips.

It was about a week later when they set up camp in the forest just a quarter of an hour on horseback outside of the town of Carmel. Many of the outlaws were in high spirits, and Kurt soon found out why.

“Carmel has one of the best brothels I’ve ever been to,” Puck told him, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

“And he’s been to a fair few,” Michael said with a roll of his eyes.

Puck glared at him. “And what does that mean? You expect me to believe you’re staying at camp when there’s many a willing bed partner, just minutes away?”

Michael ducked his head, blushing. “No,” he mumbled, “I’m going.”

Puck clapped him on the back, in good spirits once more. “Good man! I’m gonna go talk to Blaine about arranging a party to take into town, then.”

Kurt frowned. Was Blaine planning on going into town, to visit the brothel? He had spent the past fortnight kissing Blaine, and had had seldom few minutes alone to relieve the tension that all of that kissing only increased. He imagined the frustration was likely worse for Blaine, for while Kurt could only imagine what sex was like, surely Blaine already knew from experience, and so he had a much more vivid understanding on what he was being denied. Perhaps he would want to go to the brothel to relieve some of that tension. Kurt felt silly for being so angry at the thought; it wasn’t as though he and Blaine were married, for goodness’s sake. Blaine was perfectly free to do whatever he liked, with whomever he liked.

Still, the thought of Blaine with another man bothered Kurt more than he cared to admit, even to himself, and his vexation increased throughout the day, as it appeared almost every man was planning on riding into town. Kurt slipped away from the revelry and excited talk at lunch, finding a small pond that had him thinking with bittersweet fondness of his nights in the lake with Blaine.

He slid off his boots and sat down on the bank, slipping his hot feet into the cool water of the pond and leaning back on his palms. He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him and so jumped a little when hands settled on his shoulders.

“Hello, you,” Blaine greeted him, his voice velvety smooth, “I’ve been looking for you all day.” He sat down behind Kurt, placing his legs on either side of him and hugging him from behind. He kissed his cheek and settled his head on his shoulder, dipping his own feet in the water.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt asked quietly. “I mean, should you not be off planning for the trip into town tonight?”

“Oh, I’ve put Puck in charge of that.”

Kurt twisted half way in Blaine’s arms to look at him. “You mean, you’re not going into Carmel?”

“No. Well, perhaps tomorrow, to do some bartering. You’re more than welcome to join me. But not tonight. Everyone’s very excited to go, and I thought I’d stay back to keep watch over Sebastian. I was hoping you’d stay with me, but perhaps you are planning on going with them? In which case, I'll ask you to stay close to Finn's side, as much for his well-being as for your own. He's regularly swindled in games of cards.”

“No! No, I don’t want to go into town tonight,” Kurt assured him quickly, blushing. “I thought that…perhaps you wanted…” he trailed off in embarrassment.

“That I wanted to go with Puck and the others to the brothel?” Blaine asked gently. “Now why would I do that when I’ve got you here with me?” He winced. “Well, that didn’t sound terribly romantic, did it? What I mean is, I thought we could take advantage of an empty camp together tonight. Sebastian will be here, of course, but we need only check up on him once or twice. Other than that, it will be just the two of us, all evening long.”

Kurt smiled in relief, the tension draining from his shoulders. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” He pressed a kiss to Blaine’s jaw.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt brought Sebastian his evening meal, hoping to get the most unpleasant part of his night out of the way so he could enjoy some time alone with Blaine.

Sebastian looked up when he slipped inside the tent, sneering at the bread and wild chicken Kurt set down.

“So everyone’s gone into town. I imagine Blaine went as well, and yet you’re here, doing his bidding like a fool, instead of helping me escape, while he’s off fucking whores more desirable than yourself.”

“Actually,” Kurt said loftily, a smile playing on his lips, “he and I decided to forgo a trip to town until tomorrow.” He sat down beside Sebastian on the ground and lifted a piece of bread for him to bite. He paused for a moment, and then decided to stretch the truth just a little. “He asked me to bring you your supper. He said he doesn’t want to look at your pinched little weasel face right now.”

Sebastian’s expression turned stormy. “So, you’ve a romantic evening for two planned, then? Let me guess: he’ll eat the food you made him, fuck your face, and then roll over and fall asleep. Pity the best treatment you’ll ever receive in life will be from that heathen. Not that you deserve any better. It’s a wonder he can look at you at all.”

Kurt put the food down, standing up. “Well, it still sounds more appealing than what you’re capable of in bed, from the gossip I used to hear,” he said sweetly. The acts Sebastian referenced were foreign enough to Kurt that they didn’t appall him as much as he suspected they should, but he still knew he was being insulted. And he hated that Sebastian could make him doubt himself so much. “I’ve tired of your voice already. I’ll leave you to eat in peace.”

“My hands are tied!” Sebastian snapped as Kurt made to exit. “How am I to feed myself?”

“You’re so very clever; I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt found Blaine sitting by the fire. He stood up as Kurt approached, a bright smile on his face. Kurt stopped and gazed at him, his heart swelling. He seemed so young in the soft glow of the fire, his face smooth (Kurt had convinced him to shave earlier by the pond, though Blaine guaranteed his scruff would be back within the next two days), and his eyes bright and affectionate. Kurt waited as Blaine strode towards him and took his hands in his.

“I hope that wasn’t entirely dreadful. He’s been annoying me to no end, and if I saw him, I might be tempted to gag him again, which would be very cruel, as we’re sure to neglect him tonight.”

“Believe me, I was sorely tempted to gag him, myself,” Kurt replied wryly, but he smiled when Blaine leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Now, what shall we do tonight?”


	8. Chapter 8

As it was just dusk, Blaine took his horse and Kurt borrowed Wesley’s for a ride. Wesley had stayed back and agreed to keep an eye on Sebastian’s tent while they were gone, but not before shooting Kurt a stern warning look and telling him to take good care of Gavel. They took the horses for an easy jaunt, finding a small lake a half hour away, peeling off their shirts (Kurt stubbornly waited until Blaine’s head was turned, despite Blaine’s teasing eyes) and jumping into the water, which seemed warm against the chill night air. They splashed around, exchanging fleeting, teasing kisses, and played Marco Polo. Blaine did not even try to keep away, letting Kurt catch him easily so that he could wrap his arms around him and kiss him thoroughly.

It was almost pitch dark when they arrived back at camp, only a sliver of moonlight granting them sight. Kurt took an extra few minutes to brush down Gavel as an apology, knowing Wesley would be displeased that he had brought him back so late. They checked in on Sebastian, who was asleep on a bed of hay, shivering in the cold. They decided to grant him a small mercy, and Blaine fetched a blanket from his tent and draped it over him. Blaine whispered to Kurt that they’d just have to make up for the missing blanket by holding each other even tighter as they slept.

They made their way to the fire, where the few men who had not gone into Carmel were gathered. One was playing a pipe, and Blaine asked Kurt to dance. He found himself high on good spirits and so much time alone with Blaine with no interruptions, and so accepted. Soon they were laughing and dancing merrily to the cheerful melodies the pipe player produced, singing along when they recognized the song, the steady claps of the men watching providing a solid beat.

Kurt had not met any of these men, but he felt comfortable at the sight of their jovial faces. Two of them were pressed close, one resting his head on the other’s shoulder, and Kurt wondered if perhaps they might be lovers.

At some point during their wonderful evening, Kurt, happy and relaxed, decided that he wanted to try something new with Blaine. Making up his mind on the matter, however, did not stop his heart from thudding nervously as Blaine led him back to the tent, their hands intertwined.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt and Blaine both knelt on Blaine’s bed, kissing long and deep. Kurt had slung his arms over Blaine’s shoulders, and Blaine’s hands rested on Kurt’s hips. Kurt had learned that Blaine’s fingers would grip his hips a little tighter whenever Kurt decided to suck on his tongue, and he couldn’t help but smile at the noise Blaine made in his throat whenever he did so.

They broke apart to catch their breath, and Kurt played with the curls at the nape of Blaine’s neck, gathering his courage. “Blaine, I…I should like it if we could be as we were at the lake.”

Blaine’s thick eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What do you mean?” he teased. “Soaking wet? Hardly a comfortable way to sleep.”

Kurt let out a little huff of impatience, rolling his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek and let his hands fall so that they were playing with the hem of Blaine’s short, loose tunic. He stared down for a moment and then looked back up into Blaine’s eyes.

“Oh,” Blaine said, a grin spreading across his face, “you want us to take off our shirts.”

Kurt arched an eyebrow even as his cheeks flushed pink. “Well, if you want to state it so plainly, yes.”

Blaine kissed him quickly. “We can absolutely do that, Kurt. Thank you for telling me what you wanted.” He moved to shuck off his tunic, but Kurt stilled his hands.

“Only – only if you want to, too.”

Blaine cocked his head a little, laughing. “Why wouldn’t I?” He pulled his shirt over his head, treating Kurt to the sight of his beautiful tan skin stretching over the muscles in his chest and arms. Unfortunately, this only made Kurt more nervous.

“I understand you may not want to see me,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Blaine stared at him. “Whatever gave you that idea?” he asked quietly, skimming his fingertips along Kurt’s bare forearms. “Of course I want to see. Whatever you want to show me.” He gripped the bottom of Kurt’s shirt, pausing.

Kurt took a deep breath as he nodded, lifting his arms up while Blaine slid his shirt up and over his head. His hands immediately flew to cover up his chest as best he could. He felt so naked (which, he supposed, was the point). His cheeks burned and he averted his eyes as Blaine just stared at him.

“Let me see,” Blaine said, and his quiet voice seemed to boom out in the stillness of the tent. He made no move to pull Kurt’s arms from where they hid his chest; he simply sat back on his knees, his eyes roaming both Kurt’s face and his body.

Eventually, Kurt moved his hands to his sides stiffly, keeping his eyes trained on the tarp of the tent and willing Blaine not to somehow hear the rapid thrum of his heart. Blaine stayed silent, and Kurt’s eyes stung.

“I know I’m not-"

“Not what?” Blaine asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not beautiful? Not desirable? Not strong and firm?”

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut so his tears would not fall. He wanted nothing more than to drop his chin to his chest, so instead he let it jut out more, his mouth firming into a thin, tight line.

But then Blaine was touching him, trailing his fingers on the slope of one shoulder. “Who has been filling your head with such ridiculousness, I wonder? Sebastian? I told you the first night you were in my tent that he was an idiot, and seeing you like this now just proves it once again.”

Startled, Kurt opened his eyes and looked at Blaine. Blaine, who looked right into his eyes, his own wide and dark, and then flickered his gaze down, drinking Kurt in like a man dying of thirst. The hand on his shoulder slid to grip his elbow, tugging Kurt forward into Blaine’s strong embrace. Kurt trembled at the touch, the way their bodies pressed flush together.

“Your fair skin is so beautiful,” Blaine said against his neck, “holding you like this, it’s as if I’m bathing in the glow of the moon.”

He pulled back, lifting a hand to draw a line down Kurt’s cheek. “And your gorgeous face, with eyes that captured me as soon as I looked in them, even when they were gazing out from behind bruises.”

“And now I’m free to look at and to touch…” Kurt’s breath hitched in his throat as he realized Blaine’s hands were following his words. “…strong shoulders and arms…a firm chest…a smooth, flat stomach…”

Kurt shivered when Blaine’s fingertips danced over his stomach. “Blaine…” Blaine’s hands slid up his back and pulled him close. This time he wrapped his arms around Blaine as well, hugging him back. His breathing quickened at the feel of their chests pressed together and the tease of Blaine’s chest hair against his naked skin.

“Push that fool and his ludicrous words from your mind, and let me cherish you,” Blaine whispered, kissing his ear lobe. Kurt nodded against his shoulder tentatively.

“So long as…I may cherish you as well.”

“Deal.”

They fell onto their sides, fingers and palms mapping previously unexplored territory, producing sighs of pleasure and deep blushes. Kurt scraped his teeth across his lip when Blaine ducked down to trail kisses along his collarbone as his hands slid lower, tracing his stomach and chest and brushing over Kurt’s nipples in a way that had heat pooling in his belly. Kurt grazed over the defined muscles in Blaine’s arms with his hands and lips, shyly telling Blaine how much he liked them, as unused to such open declarations as he was.

They kept their hands above their waists, and Kurt was glad that Blaine just seemed to understand that that was where the line was drawn. They palmed flesh and outlined the contours of muscles, leaving searing trails of kisses along their necks and chests (and in Blaine’s case, down to Kurt’s belly button, teasing it with his tongue and making Kurt stutter).

Kurt fell asleep on Blaine’s chest, their hips kept carefully apart, to the soothing feel of Blaine’s hand stroking his naked back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated here in a very long time and I'm sorry! I'll be posting a bunch over the next while.

When Kurt woke, it was still dark. Blaine was shifting out from underneath him, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. Kurt sat up as Blaine pulled on his shirt.  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
Blaine looked at him over his shoulder, and Kurt could just make out his smile in the darkness. “Listen. Everyone’s back from Carmel.”  
  
Kurt paused and heard drunken whoops and laughter outside. “It sounds as though they had a good time,” he said with a smirk.  
  
“I’m going to go check on them,” Blaine said, slipping on his boots.  
  
“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Kurt told him, reaching for his own shirt, blushing as he remembered their touches and kisses from before.  
  
“I wasn’t sure you approved of their activities,” Blaine teased, handing him his boots.  
  
Kurt shrugged. “I don’t care what they do. He paused, a little smile playing on his lips. “I only care about what we do.”  
  
Blaine leaned over and kissed him, parting their lips with a smack. “Mmmm, me too.”  
  
****   
  
“Oh dear,” Kurt said, tucking one arm underneath his elbow and pressing his fingers to his lips.  
  
Nearly everyone was drunk, even Michael. Finn and Puck were cut and bruised, and Kurt could hazard a guess why.  
  
“They got into it over a Jewess,” David told them, throwing a sloppy arm round Kurt’s shoulders, “a barmaid named Rachel. A tiny, pretty thing. Really loud, though.”  
  
“Lovely,” Kurt said, wrinkling his nose as Blaine laughed, “now they have two maidens to attack each other over.”  
  
“Settle down, lads,” Blaine called to Finn and Puck, who had begun to shove at each other again.  
  
The drunken ruffians had brought two women with them. One stepped between Finn and Puck, her hips swaying, and placed a hand on each of their chests, easing them apart with impressive confidence, considering she stood between two large, very angry men. “Now, now boys, there’s no need to fight,” she purred, “your little Jewess may be a stick in the mud, but I think I can handle you both.” She was a dark beauty, with glossy black hair that fell in waves about her shoulders and down her back, and skin the color of caramel. Her ample bosom threatened to spill out of her low-cut dress.  
  
“That’s Santana, from the brothel,” Michael said, squinting and pointing at the woman. His other arm was slung around the second girl, who was giggling and trying to hold him steady as he swayed slightly. She was stunning, exotic like Michael, with almond eyes and long dark hair.   
  
“And who is this?” Blaine asked, shooting the girl a friendly wink and bringing her hand to his lips. She blushed and hid her face against Michael’s chest, but then grinned at him.  
  
“Christina,” she said, and shot Kurt a sweet smile. Kurt and Blaine introduced themselves.  
  
“She and Santana are friends,” Michael informed Kurt and Blaine needlessly, “but Tina is nice and Santana is scary.” Though he was drunk, Kurt guessed Michael’s assessment of the women was accurate, noticing how Santana’s eyes glittered dangerously as she glanced back and forth between Puck and Finn.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve all enjoyed yourselves,” Blaine announced to the group at large, laughing at the yells and catcalls that answered him, “though I do not envy you the sore heads you’ll be sporting tomorrow.”  
  
Michael scooped Christina into his arms and she shrieked, slapping him on the shoulder as he carted her off to his tent, stumbling a little on the way. Finn and Puck were loudly protesting Santana’s idea that the three of them share a tent as she examined her nails, a bored expression on her face. They were right in each other’s faces once more, Puck’s hands fisting in the material of Finn’s torn tunic.  
  
“Finn, Puck, fighting will only render you both incapable of spending the night with this beautiful woman,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s hand and striding over to them. Santana smirked, preening at his compliment.  
  
“Now, we must ask ourselves: Which of you is willing to forgo a night with Santana in order to get enough rest and get up early to ride into Carmel and court Rachel when you’re not a drunken, bumbling mess?” Blaine winked at Kurt and Kurt smiled back at him in amusement.  
  
“I will!! I would do that!” Finn insisted, slapping a hand against his chest.  
  
“Do not pound your chest, Finn,” Kurt chided him, “you look like a wild beast.”  
  
Puck was too busy staring at Santana’s breasts to reply.  
  
“Puck?”  
  
“What?” he said, blinking stupidly.  
  
“Well, I think that answers that question,” Santana said. "Too bad for you, Finnocence; I would have been the ride of your life." She shot Finn a reproachful glare before running a hand seductively along Puck’s chest, grabbing his belt and pulling him away. Puck’s face lit up, and he gave Finn an arrogant, gloating little wave over his shoulder as Santana dragged him towards his tent.  
  
Finn pouted. Blaine reached up and patted him on the shoulder. “Rest, friend, and you can come with Kurt and I into town tomorrow and woo the barmaid you desire.”  
  
Finn cheered once again at this. He trotted off again, tripping over a stray log from the fire and yelping as he tumbled from his great height to the ground. Kurt and Blaine snickered as he righted himself with a sheepish smile their way and continued on to his tent.  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes fondly. "Well," he said, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist, "I can't say I regret staying here rather than going into town at all."  
  
"Hmmm, are you certain?" Kurt teased. "They seem to have had a merry sort of time."  
  
"Ah, but so did I. Though I don't know if 'merry' is the word I'd use," Blaine said, sliding his hand up under Kurt's shirt to rest on the bare skin of his back. Kurt felt gooseflesh raise on his skin as Blaine ducked to press a kiss to his neck while they made their way back to Blaine's tent.

***  
  
When Kurt next woke, it was still dark, but instead of cheers and laughter, angry yells and a terrified scream reached his ears. Blaine was already out of bed, pulling on his boots once again.  
  
“Blaine…?”  
  
“Stay here.”  
  
“No, I’m going with you,” Kurt protested, sliding off of the bed and grabbing his boots.  
  
Blaine hesitated, and then pulled a dagger from his boot, handing it to Kurt. “Hurry, then.”   
  
Kurt slipped his boots on quickly while Blaine slung his belt around his hips, and gripped the dagger tight as he followed Blaine outside, coming to stand at his side.  
  
It became immediately apparent to Kurt that the camp was not under attack. Several of Blaine’s men were standing in a small circle, shouting angrily and jeering. Kurt frowned, hurrying forward with Blaine, when he saw Finn holding Michael back by his arms. Michael was silent but straining in Finn’s hold.  
  
“What’s going on here?” Blaine shouted as they neared them. The crowd parted to let him by.  
  
Puck strode towards him. “Blaine! She robbed me! That Spanish bitch robbed me! We fucked, and she waited til I fell asleep, and she took everything, all the gold and jewels I had in my tent! And she took my horse! Mario is gone!” Puck was trembling with rage, his eyes still glassy with drink. “And she’s going to pay for it,” he growled, turning away and pointing to reveal Christina, who was slumped on the ground, crying.  
  
“No, please! Please, I have nothing,” she sobbed, “I didn’t know-“  
  
“I’m sure you can think of some way to pay off your friend’s debt,” another ruffian jeered, “mayhap you should service us for free!”  
  
Christina cried harder, curling in on herself and shaking her head. Kurt had to stop himself from rushing forward and gathering her in his arms.  
  
“Don’t play the blushing virgin,” another shouted, “Michael’s already had you on your back, so-“  
  
“That’s enough!” Blaine barked. “You drunken idiots get back to bed! I’ll be dead before one of my men forces sex on a crying woman! Anyone care to fight me?” He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.  
  
A couple of the men grumbled, but most nodded at his words or at least ducked their heads.   
  
As the men shuffled back to their tents, Blaine told Puck and Michael to stay. Michael ran forward when Finn released his arms, but stopped, breathing heavily, when Blaine held up a hand.  
  
“Did anyone think to pursue the other woman?” Blaine asked.  
  
“Wes has already gone after her,” Michael said between gritted teeth, though he didn’t take his eyes off Christina.  
  
“He won’t catch her,” Puck declared angrily, “Mario’s the fastest horse we have. Her friend shall have to pay her debt. I don’t see why you should care, Michael. She’s a nasty little schemer, just like the bitch who stole from me. I know you’ve a soft heart, but don’t be fooled by the trollop just because you’ve been up her skirts.”  
  
Michael glared at Puck, but then he glanced down at Christina, and an injured look passed over his face, as though he was unsure what to think.

“Enough, Puck,” Blaine said tiredly, and walked up to Christina. She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears and her hair a mess.  
  
“Please d-don’t kill me,” she begged, bowing her head.   
  
“Hush.” Blaine crouched down and cupped her elbows, pulling her to stand up. He grabbed her arm and turned it so the underside was illuminated by the flickering firelight. She whimpered in pain. Kurt gasped when he saw the angry red marks on her arm that were starting to purple into bruises.  
  
“Who did this? Puck?”   
  
Puck avoided Blaine’s eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to keep a grip on her; I thought she was gonna give me the slip! Or attack me or something! Can’t trust any of ‘em.”  
  
Blaine rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure the girl a head shorter than you was going to attack you, especially while surrounded by your friends.” He turned back to Christina, letting go of her arm. “Are you not friends with the thief?”  
  
“Y-yes, but I swear I didn’t know,” Christina’s voice broke, “please believe me; I had no idea she planned to rob you! I would never – “ She stopped, and looked over at Michael with desperate eyes. “Please, believe me.”  
  
“I think she’s telling the truth, Blaine,” Michael said, offering her a small, sad smile.  
  
Puck scoffed. “You’re a romantic fool! She’s not some sweet milkmaid-“  
  
“I do, too,” Kurt said, crossing his arms. Puck rolled his eyes, but said no more.  
  
“As do I,” Blaine agreed. Christina visibly slumped in relief.  
  
“Yeah, well what about my stuff, hah? And Mario!”  
  
“Go sleep off the drink, Puck, and we’ll talk in the morning,” Blaine told him. Puck glowered for a minute and then stomped off, muttering under his breath.  
  
“I-I only have a little money,” Christina said hesitantly, digging into the pocket of her skirt and pulling out a handful of coins. “And it’s what Michael gave me,” she added, her lip trembling as she offered them to Blaine.  
  
“Keep your earnings,” Blaine said kindly, “you came by them honestly enough.”  
  
Christina stared up at him in surprise, but pocketed the money.  
“Here,” Kurt said, striding forward and placing his hands on her shoulders. He winced when she flinched at his touch. “Come, I’ll help you clean up.”  
  
“Al-alright,” she sniffled. Kurt began to lead her away, but she pulled from his grasp and up to Michael, who was looking quite forlorn, throwing her arms around him and planting a kiss on his lips. “Sleep off your ale,” Kurt heard her say, “so you can give me a proper goodbye tomorrow.”  
  
Kurt smiled at Michael’s giddy grin before whispering to Blaine, “For an evening that was to be ours alone, we certainly have a lot of company.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, taking his hand and brushing his thumb over his knuckles, “living as an outlaw does not beget much romance, I’m afraid. You deserve better.”  
  
“No, no,” Kurt argued, “I…I’ve grown rather used to living this way.”  
  
“Still, you shouldn’t have to.”  
  
Kurt could think of nothing to say to that, and Christina had come back to them in any case, so he smiled at Blaine and then took her to get cleaned up.

***

The following morning, they woke early to ride into town. Tina rode with Michael, Kurt took David’s horse, and Finn rode on his large chestnut brown stallion, Drizzle. It was a quiet ride, as Michael and Finn were both nursing sore heads, but they made it to Carmel in good time.  
  
Finn left straight away for the local tavern in the hopes of flirting with his barmaid Rachel, and Michael left to return Tina to the brothel. They promised to all meet up at the tavern at noon before heading back.  
  
“Carmel is a rough town,” Blaine told Kurt, “so while outlaws such as myself can walk around with little chance of capture, it’s best you stay by my side.” He wrapped an arm around Kurt’s waist.  
  
“Seems just an excuse to have me close,” Kurt murmured in his ear as they walked. A smile played on Blaine’s lips.  
  
They spent the morning shopping. Kurt had always loved to do this, and had had so few opportunities to do so while serving Sebastian. He had made a trip here and there to market when the cook needed something and he had free time, and while that was certainly enjoyable, those outings and been rare.  
  
With Blaine, Kurt found shopping to be even more enjoyable. Blaine purchased two knives, a new string for his bow, and a couple loaves of bread. Blaine was charmingly enthusiastic, and friendly with the shop keepers, but also a deceptively shrewd negotiator when it came time to barter. Kurt was pleased when Blaine asked him his opinion on his potential purchases, though he quickly found out he knew very little about weaponry.  
  
Blaine appeared to be in a generous mood, as Kurt was able to convince him to barter for several yards of fabric.  
  
“Your clothes are threadbare and patched everywhere. They won’t last much longer, especially with the two of us both wearing them.”  
  
“You’re right. We should avoid wearing shirts as often as possible.”  
  
“Blaine!” Kurt tried to send him a scolding look but his blush had him failing miserably.  
  
They ended up getting a fair amount of wool, cotton, and hemp, with Kurt’s promise that he would fashion them some new clothing.  
  
Aside from his joy of shopping, Kurt found that after the previous night’s activities, he was even more aware than usual of Blaine’s upper body: the tan of his skin, the way his muscles shifted, the broadness of his shoulders, the hair dusting his arms. He wondered if Blaine was having similar thoughts. He also wondered if Blaine knew of his thoughts; Blaine had today chosen to wear a sleeveless shirt that left his bare arms on display right up to the shoulder and dipped down low enough to show his chest hair, and Kurt could have sworn he did it on purpose.  
  
On their way to the tavern, Blaine presented Kurt with a little ornate knife that had tiny birds carved into the handle.  
  
“For you. For whittling; Finn tells me you’re quite good at it, and you seem to enjoy it.”  
  
Kurt slipped it into his belt, his hands trembling a little. The only gifts he had ever received were when he was a small boy, and his father would give him small wooden toys on his birthday. That stopped when his father fell ill and he had to become a man and look after him.   
  
“Thank you,” he said, touched right to his heart, and brought Blaine’s hand, already linked with his, up to his mouth, kissing his fingers.

When they gathered for a meal at the tavern, Blaine, Michael, and even Finn teased Kurt for his purchases.  
  
“Using stolen goods to barter for bolts of fabric,” Blaine tsked him with a wink.  
  
“Face it, Kurt, you are truly an outlaw, now. One of us!” Michael was in very good spirits, eyes shining bright. He had spent the morning with Tina at the brothel, and after some convincing (and the way Michael had said “convincing” had Kurt blushing), she had agreed to accompany him back to camp for the rest of their stay. He had left all his money at the brothel to ensure her return, and so could do no shopping of his own.  
  
Kurt tilted his chin. “I had no part in procuring those stolen items. I merely used what I had available to me in order to obtain some necessary things. I hardly think that makes me as unscrupulous as you lot,” he sniffed, but then snickered with Blaine and Michael when Finn told them to quiet down.  
  
The barmaid Rachel sashayed up to them, carrying a tray with ale and water (the latter for Kurt; he could not touch ale without being sick). She was a small woman with a big smile and a bigger voice, and the kind of intensity Kurt was surprised Finn of all men found appealing. She had lovely brown hair and a fringe of bangs that fell too low across her brow, but was quite pretty nonetheless.  
  
“Food’ll be out straight away, gentlemen,” she said, and Kurt could tell she was trying to make her voice sound more refined than it was. “I know it’s only a quarter past noon, but I urge you all to stay until the evening, and you shall be in for a real treat.”  
  
Finn straightened up eagerly. “Really? Does this treat involve you?”  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes, amused that Finn did not seem to understand this was not Rachel propositioning him.  
  
“Yes!” Rachel said enthusiastically, grinning wide and nodding her head frantically. She pointed over to the front of the tavern, where tables had been cleared away and several musical instruments sat. “There’s a dance tonight, and Miz Susan finally came to her senses and agreed to let me lend my stunning voice to provide the music.” She sidled up to Finn. “And if you stick around, you may be lucky enough fellows to get a dance or two.” Rachel smiled at them all, but then blushed and fluttered her eyelashes at Finn alone. Kurt stifled a laugh. He thought her fairly obnoxious, but she was certainly endearing in her earnestness.

Finn lowered his voice. “And would any of these dances be done lying down?” He moved a hand to cup Rachel’s bottom. Kurt reached out to smack it away, but Rachel beat him to it, pushing Finn the Idiot’s hand away and then slapping him across the face, to raucous laughter at their own table, and others near it.  
  
“Finn! You great oaf! How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a respectable girl; I ain’t no floozy who’ll lift up her skirts for a man she’s known a day!”   
  
Blaine and Michael chuckled at a red-faced Finn as Rachel huffed and stomped away. Kurt patted his shoulder. “I think you’ve shoved your foot too far in your mouth to win her over now,” he said in mock sympathy.  
  
“Why did I have to take a fancy to a prude who’s got her legs locked shut?” Finn whined, but still looked over his shoulder to watch wistfully as Rachel made her way to the kitchen.  
  
“Perhaps with a bit less groping without invitation and a little more charm, you would have fared better, old friend,” Blaine said, his eyes twinkling.  
  
“Seems to have worked rather well for you, Blaine,” Michael said slyly, and Kurt looked away, flushing right down to his chest.  
  
“And Tina, it seems, as she’s obviously put a spell on you,” Blaine countered, reaching under the table to squeeze Kurt’s hand. Michael’s mouth dropped open, and then he looked down shyly, blushing as well.  
  
When Rachel returned with their food, it quickly became clear she was intent on torturing Finn for his wandering hands and fumbling proposition. She pointedly ignored him, save for a few vicious glares, and flirted with Blaine, Michael, and Kurt. She sat on Blaine’s lap and played with Kurt’s hair. He would have batted her hand away if the look on Finn’s face hadn’t amused him so.   
  
“And there’s a _real gentleman_ over in the other room, one St. James. He seems like a fine fellow, respectful and gallant,” Rachel told Michael loudly, her eyes darting to Finn for a moment, “and he has offered to escort me to the dance tonight. I’m told he has a lovely singing voice, unlike the drunken caterwauling of _some men_ I’ve heard recently.”  
  
They left after their meal, Blaine and Kurt apologizing to Rachel for taking their leave so early. Finn stayed silent, pouting. The ride back was a silent one, as Finn’s dark cloud of a mood did not allow for much merriment, though Michael and Tina flirted with their eyes and exchanged quick kisses.  
  
Kurt rode alongside Blaine, answering his smile every so often. He thought of the little knife Blaine had given him, tucked in his belt, and planned out what he would first do with it: whittle a pipe to give as a present to Blaine. He thought of how Blaine’s eyes had lit up the night previous as they danced to the music of the pipe player, and smiled wide, glad he had thought of something he could do to court Blaine in return.


	10. Chapter 10

When they arrived back at camp, Puck, looking much worse for wear indeed, greeted them with a mumbled apology to Tina. Blaine told Kurt that he had had words with him that morning before they left for Carmel.  
  
“Puck, you’re a thief. And you were bested by another thief. Do not take your anger out on an innocent woman, whatever her trade,” Blaine had told him.  
  
Puck had stayed silent, but nodded grudgingly. Blaine told Kurt that Puck was much more willing to listen to reason when there was no ale swirling about in his brain.  
  
Blaine had some matters to discuss with Wesley and David about the group’s plans for the next while (from what Kurt understood, they aimed to stay outside Carmel for a week and then begin their travels anew), and had promised Puck they would figure out about getting him a new horse, so Kurt slipped away from him, eager to start making his gift.  
  
He searched the woods nearby for the perfect piece of wood from which to craft the pipe. He was very particular indeed, and quite some time passed before he made his way back to Blaine’s tent and began to work. He didn’t need to worry about Blaine finding him, as he would have no way of knowing what Kurt was whittling. His thoughts drifted to Blaine as he worked: his kind smile, his warm eyes, his lean, muscular build, the feel of his soft lips on Kurt’s skin. He felt his heart swell as he thought back to the way Blaine had first taken care of him when no one, least of all Kurt, expected him to be so kind, to the way Blaine had looked at him in the light of the moon at the lake that first night and so many after, and to the soft expression on his face when he had handed Kurt the pretty little whittling knife that morning.  
  
Kurt hummed to himself as he slid the knife over the wood, stripping off some bark. Blaine’s arms circled around his waist and pulled him close. Kurt smiled and put down the wood and the knife and leaned back against Blaine’s chest, enjoying the solid, secure way Blaine’s front cradled his back. He trailed his fingers over Blaine’s strong forearms.   
  
“What’s that you’re humming anyway? You know I can’t resist you when I hear that voice.”  
  
Kurt’s smile widened. “Just a little tune. It makes me think of you. Of…us. It’s about two lovers running away to a safe, secret place all their own.”  
  
Kurt could feel Blaine smile against his neck. Blaine lifted one hand from Kurt’s waist and touched his fingers to his chin, tilting it gently to the side and back so their lips could meet.  
  
Kurt responded eagerly to the glide of Blaine’s lips on his, slipping his tongue to run along the seam of Blaine’s mouth. Blaine’s lips opened and their tongues slid together as Blaine began to navigate them over to the bed. Kurt let out a quiet moan when Blaine’s tongue ran along the roof of his mouth. He felt his legs hit the edge of the bed and lifted his knees onto it, Blaine climbing after him so that they were both kneeling on the bed, Kurt’s back still pressed to Blaine’s front, and their mouths still fused together. Kurt brought a hand up to tangle his fingers in Blaine’s curls and Blaine broke their kiss to lavish Kurt’s neck with open-mouth kisses.  
  
“Oh, Blaine…” Kurt blushed a little at the breathy sound of his voice, but it only seemed to spur Blaine on. He latched on to the spot where Kurt’s neck and shoulder met, pushing the fabric of his shirt down a little and suckling there, occasionally scraping his teeth over the bruising patch of skin.

Blaine suddenly leaned over, snuffing out the candle beside the bed, which had Kurt bending at the waist so that he fell softly onto his hands, and Blaine was leaning over him, pressed up against his backside.  
  
Kurt froze when his hands hit the blankets on the bed, horrible memories rushing to the forefront of his mind and he truly could not move. Blaine straightened up and gripped Kurt’s hips when he did not follow.  
  
“Kurt?”  
  
Hearing his name on Blaine’s lips brought Kurt back to the present. He gasped and shuddered, flipping over onto his back and covering his face with his hands as he shook his head.  
  
“No, Blaine, I cannot. I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”  
  
“Shhh,” Blaine soothed, lying beside him and stroking his side gently. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Kurt gulped, staving off tears. “I love kissing you, and the…other things we did last night. So much. But when you had me…bent over like that…I-I’m not ready, and I – it made me think of the night you found me, when…” he trailed off, unable to put it into words.  
  
Blaine’s fingertips ghosted over Kurt’s cheek. His eyes were open and full of understanding.  
  
Kurt took a deep breath and tried again. “Right before your men attacked, one of them had me in that exact position. He was going to rape me. I-I could feel him pressed up against me, and I…I was so scared.”  
  
Blaine drew him close, pressing a soft kiss to a tear trailing down his cheek. “Kurt, I’ll never force you, no matter how strong my desire for you. I can always stop. And I'd never just...climb on top of you like that. We’ll never do anything unless we both of us want to. I’m sorry something we were sharing together made you think of that night, and I’m sorry you were scared by it.”  
  
Kurt cuddled closer, pressing his forehead against Blaine’s and letting his eyes drift shut. “I must disappoint you, as a lover,” Kurt said, blushing, “We – we aren’t even really lovers yet. I’m sure another bedfellow would not hesitate to lay with you.”  
  
“I don’t want another bedfellow,” Blaine whispered, his warm breath ghosting over Kurt’s cheek, “I want you.” He grinned. “A fellow.” He kissed Kurt’s forehead. “Who, if I am not mistaken, is currently in my bed.” He kissed the tip of Kurt’s nose.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling. “You've such a clever way with words,” he told him dryly.  
  
“You love it,” Blaine teased him, and then he became serious once more. “And you don’t disappoint me at all. No one feels like you, tastes like you. I want whatever you are willing to do, and nothing more. You should know, Kurt, I’ve no wish to make love unless you let me know that you are absolutely thirsting for it, as I am.”  
  
“You are not a very good ruffian,” Kurt teased him, his cheeks very hot, “I’m fairly certain you are supposed to be a callous brute, not a secret sweet gentleman.”  
  
“As long as it stays between us,” Blaine replied, rubbing his nose against Kurt’s.  
  
“You take my breath away,” Kurt whispered, leaning in to brush his lips over Blaine’s.  
  
Blaine looked at him straight in the eye, and the golden warmth Kurt saw in his gaze made him feel as though he was melting. And then Blaine’s smooth, velvety voice was saying something Kurt had only ever dreamed of hearing from another man.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Kurt realized he had been staring wide-eyed at Blaine for far too long, though Blaine’s expression remained calm and affectionate.   
  
“I love you, too,” he said in a rush, eager to get the words and the reciprocation out. He smiled giddily as Blaine grinned at him and cupped his neck, pressing their lips together once more.

***

For the next two days, Kurt felt as though he was walking on a cloud. A cloud of Blaine’s love (he was quickly horrified that such a silly thought had entered his head, but then he reasoned that he was indeed a silly fool in love, and thus entitled to some ridiculous sentiments). He and Blaine spent nearly every minute together, and it was the perfect timing, as all the outlaws were making the most of their time so near a town and a brothel.  
  
Kurt and Blaine went into town again and shopped. They stayed until the evening and visited Rachel at the tavern, and Kurt joined her for a song, to many whistles and much cheering. They danced merrily as Rachel’s powerful voice sang out over the whistle of the pipe and the whine of the fiddle. Around camp, they went swimming, picked berries, and enjoyed each other as they had the first night everyone else had gone into Carmel, tasting and touching at their leisure, Kurt whimpering when Blaine's tongue flicked over his nipple, Blaine gasping when Kurt's teeth scraped under his jaw, his hands dancing across his stomach teasingly.  
  
Once Kurt began to drift back down to the earth, the haze of the first acknowledgement of love clearing a little, he was consumed with a thought, an idea. Since the night they confessed their love, Kurt could not stop thinking of making love with Blaine. He hoped he wasn’t fool enough to have become obsessed with the prospect simply because Blaine had told him he loved him (though that likely had something to do with it). But as he pondered this change, he realized what had truly caused it. Blaine, in his efforts to reassure Kurt of his contentedness, had as good as told him he would not seduce him, and had no plans to do so. So it became very clear to Kurt that the seducing was now up to him, if ever they were to make love. The knowledge had made Kurt eager to do just that. The idea of taking such action made him feel rather powerful.  
  
The trouble was, he had no idea how to go about seducing someone. And he did not know what he wanted to do with Blaine, only that the thirst for something more was upon him. He could not imagine doing anything like what those other men had attempted, but he thought, blushing, of how it felt to pleasure himself. He thought of Blaine pleasuring himself. He imagined touching Blaine like that, and Blaine touching him like that, and though it was torture, it was certainly the sweetest kind of pain.  
  
He thought back to the conversation he had with Tina the night she had first come to camp, when he had cleaned her up after Puck’s drunken boorishness, as it was the one point of reference beyond Blaine on such matters.

_“I have no attraction to women,” he told her, “so you needn’t be shy with me if you wish to bathe. I can still turn my back if you wish.”_  
  
 _She let out a watery laugh. “Darling, I’m a whore. I’m not shy.”_  
  
 _He still felt it chivalrous to avert his eyes as she slipped out of her dress, until she settled down in the tub of water he fetched her. He apologized on Puck’s behalf as she scrubbed at her skin, but stopped when he saw her wince while reaching for her back._  
  
 _“Christina? I can wash your back if you like.”_  
  
 _“Thank you. You can call me Tina if you want.”_  
  
 _“Tina.” Kurt paused as he slid the cloth over her skin. “May I ask…how did you become…?”_  
  
 _“A whore? Same as anybody, I suppose. I needed money, my parents were gone; what’s a girl to do? Especially a foreign girl.”_  
  
 _Kurt nodded. As far as he could tell, Tina kept more dignity in her profession than he did serving Sebastian. “And…do you like it?”_  
  
 _“It’s alright, most of the time. At least I like men. Santana? She has a lover…another girl at the brothel. She will sleep with men like any of us will, but she desires only one lover: her Brittany.”_  
  
 _“Do you think she’s gone back to the brothel to see her?”_  
  
 _Tina stayed silent._  
  
 _“Do not worry,” Kurt said softly, now untangling her hair, “I have no reason to betray you.”_  
  
 _“But neither did Santana. I…I do not know what she will do next. I had no idea she planned to steal, and to leave me here to deal with all these angry men in her wake.”_  
  
 _“But you seem to have taken a shine to Michael,” Kurt teased, hoping to take her mind off of how the other outlaws had treated her._  
  
 _“Mmmmm yes,” Tina almost purred, “Michael. He’s quite something. You see, most men? They’ll grunt and thrust until they’re spent and that’s that. Michael, though, he-“ She stopped herself. “But you don’t want to hear.”_  
  
 _“I do not mind,” Kurt told her, suddenly curious despite his shyness._  
  
 _“Michael…took care of me, I guess you could say. He seemed very intent on my pleasure in addition to his own.”_  
  
 _“What…what did he do?” Kurt asked, blushing madly and praying Michael never found out he had asked such a thing._  
  
 _“He used his hands, fingers…he made love to me with his mouth…God, it felt so good,” Tina giggled, wiggling a little in the water, making it splash over the edge of the tub, “I’m heating up the water just thinking of it! And he was drunk! Perhaps I’ll give him another go, free of charge, just to see what he can do with a mind not addled with drink.”_  
  
Tina had continued on, describing her activities with Michael in far too great detail for Kurt, but he had only been half-listening. Her words had brought to mind what he had done with Blaine just hours earlier that night, how they had used their mouths and their hands to explore their chests and stomachs and necks, and always, always lips, how good it how felt, and how intimate and romantic it was. How connected he had felt to Blaine.   
  
And now, he wanted more.  
  
He had no experience whatsoever in such matters, did not have the words to properly express his desires, and even if he did have them, he was not sure he would be able to actually speak them. Still, whenever his eyes fell on Blaine, smiling at him over the fire, whenever he felt Blaine’s lips on his or his hands gliding across his skin, whenever he heard Blaine’s groans of desire or pressed his face to Blaine’s neck and breathed in his earthy scent, his resolve grew to attempt his very own seduction, however fumbling and embarrassing it might turn out be. His love for Blaine and Blaine’s love for him gave him courage.

***

Kurt spent the rest of the week in breathless anticipation. He wanted to make certain he was ready, body, mind, and spirit, and so had decided to wait until the group’s last night outside Carmel, as he and Blaine would be tired and hot and dirty once they began traveling again.  
  
He wanted romance. He knew most of the outlaws would laugh at such sentiments, but he trusted that Blaine would not. He wanted romance for himself, and he wanted it for Blaine.  
  
Other than that, he did not know where to begin. He consulted with Tina, asking her how she looked at a man in order to seduce him, and she showed him what she did: fluttering her eyelashes and pouting, ducking her head and looking up at him with smoldering eyes, and biting her lip.  
  
On their last night in camp, after a trip into Carmel filled with dancing and singing, flirting and merriment, Kurt sat Blaine down on their bed, trying to control the rapid staccato of his heart. He was glad Blaine had not indulged in any mead, as he wanted them to both have clear minds.  
  
“I have something for you,” Kurt said softly, pressing the pipe, wrapped in a silk handkerchief Tina had given him (from one of her many customers), finished just in time, into Blaine’s hands.  
  
“What’s this?” Blaine asked, curiosity and affection chiming in his voice. He unwrapped the gift, picking up the small pipe and turning it over with his fingers. “Kurt…”  
  
His voice was like molasses, warm and sweet, and Kurt allowed himself to swim in it for a moment, breathing calm and deep. “I thought you might like to learn to play. You’ve a lovely voice; it should translate well to the instrument.”  
  
“Kurt, it’s beautiful,” Blaine said, grinning at him as he smoothed his fingers over it. Kurt stared at the movement of his hands, his breath quickening. Blaine raised his eyebrows playfully, bringing the pipe to his lips and blowing a single note. They laughed quietly, and Kurt fought to keep from squeaking with nervousness. “Thank you, love,” Blaine whispered, and he set the pipe aside, taking Kurt’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips.  
  
Kurt gripped Blaine’s wrists and kissed him back ardently, encouraged by the hum low in Blaine’s throat. He ducked away and looked down, glancing up at Blaine the same way Tina had looked at him, pursing his lips into a pout.  
  
Blaine frowned and Kurt’s stomach dropped. Blaine reached forward and smoothed Kurt’s bangs back from his forehead.  
  
“Kurt, are you well? You look as though you might be ill.”  
  
Mortified, Kurt twisted away from Blaine and out of his reach. He felt the bed bend as Blaine shifted closer, and arched his back without thinking when Blaine rested a hand between his shoulders. “What is it, Kurt?”  
  
The concern in Blaine’s voice had Kurt sighing and turning around, meeting Blaine’s eyes despite his warm cheeks. “I’m not ill. I was…” Kurt cleared his throat awkwardly. “I was trying to look alluring.”  
  
Blaine stared at him. “Don’t laugh!” Kurt glared at him for good measure, cursing his fair complexion, as he was sure his face was bright red, even in the glow of the candlelight. He could see a smile quivering on Blaine’s lips. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.  
  
“I must look like such a fool to you,” Kurt bit out, hunching his shoulders.  
  
“No, no,” Blaine said, but Kurt could hear the laughter in his voice. Blaine pulled his hands from his face. “I think you are adorable.”  
  
“Adorable.” Kurt scoffed. “Just what one wishes to hear when one is trying for seductive.”

“Kurt,” Blaine soothed, and Kurt found himself relaxing a little just at the sound of his name dancing along that velvety voice, “you do not need to try.” He titled Kurt’s chin up with his fingers. “Have you not figured it out yet? Each look from you seduces me, each touch of your hand, each brush of your lips. You needn’t pull faces, not when you can draw me to you so effortlessly. Why did you feel the need to try to look seductive?”  
  
Kurt gave him a look, his cheeks flushing even more.  
  
Blaine’s eyes widened in understanding.  
  
“Oh,” he said quietly, “Kurt…wouldn’t you rather be somewhere more romantic? Not in a tent in the forest, surrounded by outlaws, but somewhere beautiful, somewhere…”  
  
“We have a soft, warm bed, candlelight, and love…we have each other. What could be more romantic?” Kurt asked, leaning closer. His breath caught in his throat, and he gripped Blaine’s hands in his own. “I want…I want to be with you.” He looked into Blaine’s eyes, and got lost in the warmth of them. “I want you, Blaine.”  
  
“Show me,” he murmured, and his voice was deep, perhaps deeper than Kurt had ever heard it before, “show me what you want.”  
  
So Kurt leaned forward and kissed him, slow and sweet at first, but then their mouths became more urgent, pressing harder, lips parting and tongues massaging one another. They parted only to remove their shirts, and then kissed again, hands roving and caressing with practiced ease, but a new kind of hunger that said: “We do not stop here.” But Kurt felt at a loss for what to do next, and pulled away.  
  
“Blaine, I…I don’t…help me, please.”  
  
“Of course.” Blaine kissed him again and then leaned back, cupping Kurt’s neck with one hand and pulling him down, so that Kurt hovered over him, a knee on either side of Blaine’s hips. Blaine murmured, “Okay?” against Kurt’s lips, and Kurt nodded, pressing their mouths together firmly. Blaine’s hands fell to Kurt’s hips, but then he broke their kiss.  
“Kurt, there is something I must say.”  
  
Kurt caressed Blaine’s face, his heart filled with tenderness. “Anything. I’ve always been able to trust you, and you can trust me, too.”  
  
Blaine’s eyes flickered and he glanced away, but then he looked into Kurt’s eyes once more. “Stay with me.”  
  
“Wh-what?”  
  
“I know it’s not an ideal life…I know you don’t approve, not entirely. But stay. Please. When we deliver Sebastian, don’t go with him. I know you hate him. Stay with me. I wasn’t going to ask, but-”  
  
“Don’t ask me to stay because we’re…doing this,” Kurt insisted, watching Blaine’s face closely.  
  
“I’m not,” Blaine assured him, running his hands up to graze over Kurt’s bare sides, making him shiver. “I didn’t want to ask you before. I didn’t want to be selfish and ask you to live the rest of your life like this, but…I can’t help myself anymore. I want to be with you, too. In every way.”  
  
Kurt leaned down and pressed trembling lips to Blaine’s. “I have you in this life, so it is the one I want to live. Of course I want to stay.”

Kurt’s heart gave a little flip as Blaine smiled up at him happily, his grin curling into something hungrier. He leaned up, kissing Kurt fiercely. His hands traveled back down to Kurt’s hips, and he guided them down until Kurt was flush with Blaine’s pelvis. Kurt gasped, pulling away and looking into Blaine’s eyes, overwhelmed at the feeling of Blaine’s hard length pressed against his own.  
  
“I-I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“You do,” Blaine told him, and his confidence filled Kurt up with some of his own. “I love you so much, Kurt,” he murmured, tilting his hips up a little and making Kurt gasp again, “We’ll go slow, alright? Whatever we both like.”   
  
Blaine rolled his hips again, this time with more force, and Kurt found his own body responding in kind, craving the friction the movement created. His arms trembled as they moved their hips together, panting, and he bit his lip to hold back a groan at the delicious slide of Blaine’s cock against his own through the paper thin fabric of their breeches.  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt whined as their hips rocked together. He lowered himself down completely, his sweaty chest sliding against Blaine’s. He threaded his fingers into Blaine’s hair and kissed him messily, tongues and teeth, as Blaine’s hands slid from guiding his hips to cup his bottom firmly, urging him down even harder. “I love you I love you,” Kurt whispered in his ear, taking the lobe in his mouth, biting gently.   
  
It felt as though his body was tightening everywhere, and he lost his rhythm, his hips starting to stutter erratically. “B-Blaine, I’m going to…”  
  
“Keep going.” Blaine held Kurt’s face in his hands, staring into his eyes. “Let go, Kurt. I’ve got you.”  
  
Two more frantic thrusts of his hips meeting Blaine’s sent Kurt over the edge, white hot pleasure coursing through him and his eyes rolling back a little in his head as he groaned. He stilled against Blaine as he came, shuddering and then pressing his face in the juncture of Blaine’s neck and shoulder as he fell against him, boneless and sated.  
  
As he came down, he was vaguely aware that Blaine was stroking his back gently, kneading his flesh with loving hands. He took a gulp of air and pressed a shaky kiss to Blaine’s shoulder.  
  
“Come here.” Blaine pulled Kurt up and kissed him on the lips until they were both smiling. Kurt shifted his hips, feeling awkward at the sticky sensation in his breeches, and brushed against Blaine’s shaft, which was still rock hard.

“You…you didn’t…” Kurt blushed heavily. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Blaine said, his voice ragged. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t know how happy I am.”  
  
“I want you to, though,” Kurt insisted shyly.  
  
Blaine regarded Kurt for a moment, and then wrapped his arms around him and flipped them over. Kurt let out a yelp and then giggled nervously.  
  
“Is this alright?” Blaine breathed anxiously, shifting so that his hardness pressed against Kurt’s leg. Kurt nodded eagerly, moving his hands to slide over the expanse of Blaine’s back.  
  
Blaine kissed Kurt quickly and began to move again, grinding his hips down with more finesse than Kurt was sure he had demonstrated just minutes before. He stared, transfixed, at Blaine as he moved against him, watching a bead of sweat make its way slowly down his beautiful face, drinking in the flashes of hazel framed with long, dark lashes sent his way when Blaine looked into his eyes. He realized he was getting hard again, just from watching his lover and feeling him pleasure himself, and bucked his hips up without thinking. Blaine quickly shifted again, so that his leg was rubbing against Kurt’s cock as he rocked his hips down. Kurt moaned and clutched at Blaine, rolling his hips up against Blaine until he heard Blaine utter, “God, Kurt,” and stiffen on top of him, his body shaking with his own climax just seconds after.  
  
Blaine got off of him but then cuddled close, sneaking a hand around to cradle the back of Kurt’s head. He kissed him softly, and Kurt sighed when their lips parted.  
  
“How are you feeling, love?” Blaine asked.  
  
“I feel wonderful.” Kurt drew in a breath. “That was wonderful. Did you…was it alright for you?”  
  
Blaine brushed a thumb over Kurt’s flushing cheek. “It was amazing.” His eyes were warm and love-drunk, but he kissed Kurt on his sweaty forehead and moved off the bed, starting to strip off his pants. Kurt looked away quickly, feeling a little foolish for doing so, in light of what they had just done, but he waited until Blaine climbed back onto the bed in a clean pair of breeches to look at him again. “You can’t be comfortable,” Blaine said, raising Kurt’s hand to kiss at his fingertips, though his voice was teasing, “you should take those off.”  
  
“Will you look away?” As foolish as he may have felt, Kurt knew he was not ready for Blaine to see all of him just yet.  
  
“Whenever you ask it of me.”  
  
Blaine turned his head while Kurt changed into new pants, and then looked back and reached for him when he slipped back onto the bed. Kurt wiggled close, suddenly quite shy again, even as Blaine’s arms wrapped around him.  
  
“I love when you blush,” Blaine said, brushing his lips over Kurt’s pink cheeks.

“Even after that?”  
  
“Especially after that.”


	11. Chapter 11

“You had sex with Blaine.”  
  
Kurt looked away from staring over at Blaine, who was speaking with Finn. “…excuse me?”  
  
Tina laughed from where she was sprawled out on the ground, watching Kurt load up Pavarotti in anticipation of their travels. “Do not try to deny it, Kurt. It’s written all over your face.”  
  
Cheeks burning, Kurt tilted his chin up and concentrated on securing Pavarotti’s saddle. “Do any of the others know?”  
  
“These oafs? Not a chance. Why? Are you embarrassed?”  
  
“No,” Kurt said quietly, “no, of course not. But it’s…private.”  
  
“Good. You love him, do you not?”  
  
Kurt nodded, smiling, and Tina beamed up at him.  
  
“And he loves you. Trust me; I’ve known many men, and I can tell the difference between a man who lusts and a man who loves.”  
  
Kurt bit his lip as warmth flooded his chest at Tina’s words. “Well, Blaine loves quite well.”  
  
“Ahhh.” Tina’s teasing tone was back. “Enjoyed yourself, then?”  
  
He merely smiled impishly and then looked over at Blaine again over Pavarotti’s back. “And what of Michael? Does he lust or does he love?”  
  
Tina shrugged, but Kurt felt charmed when her cheeks pinked. “Perhaps somewhere in between the two. It matters not; you’re all leaving today and I am to return to Carmel.”  
  
“I distinctly remember overhearing a conversation between Michael and Puck just yesterday, about the two of you planning a tryst when we come through again. Is it not true?”  
  
Now it was Tina’s turn to be shy. “Hush now. Men make all kinds of promises when they’re in bed with you.”  
  
But Kurt could tell from her knowing smile that she very much believed she would see Michael again.  
  
***  
  
Kurt was pleased to find that Blaine was as ravenous for him as he was for Blaine. They couldn’t seem to stop touching, a graze of a hand here, a nudge of a shoulder there, and when they were at a distance, it was a battle to look away. They spent half their time during the day walking together, and the other half riding Pavarotti together, and Kurt felt giddy inside whether he sat behind Blaine and wrapped his arms around his waist, or sat in front of him, snug against his chest.  
  
They spent each of the next five nights as they had the last, gasping into each other’s mouths, groaning in pleasure as they moved against one another and found their release (creating a lot more laundry for Kurt to do, though it was certainly a small price to pay). Kurt grew bolder each time, so that when Blaine lay between his thighs and rocked his hips down, Kurt reached down and gripped his buttocks to urge Blaine quicken his pace, feeling the muscles beneath his palms shift and work to bring them both to ecstasy. He learned to delay his release, so that he and Blaine might come together, though that did not always happen. And he grew more confident with his words, and found himself better able to speak with Blaine about what they both desired.  
  
The only drawback was that like Tina, Sebastian seemed to notice something had changed. Kurt brought him his breakfast on the sixth morning of their travels, and his former master seemed in a sour mood.

“I can tell, you know,” Sebastian sneered as Kurt set down his food.  
  
“If you were a bit less odious, perhaps you would be free of your bonds by this point,” Kurt observed, raising a brow, “but it seems it is simply beyond your ability to be anything but irritating.”  
  
“Don’t be coy,” Sebastian continued, smirking at him, “you’re doing something new for the ringleader, aren’t you? Pleasing him in some new, degrading way. I bet it’s all he wants from you anymore. All you’re good for. You know, soon enough, he’ll run out of interesting new things to do with you, and you’ll be tossed to his men.”  
  
“Perhaps if anything you said ever turned out to be right, I might be inclined to believe you,” Kurt told him sweetly, “alas, all you do is spout nonsense.”  
  
Kurt did his best to ignore Sebastian’s words; he knew they were meant to injure, after all. He certainly didn’t believe Blaine would grow bored and get rid of him, nor did he think what they were doing was degrading, not when it felt so good, not when he felt so much love, but he did wonder if their new acts of intimacy would be all Blaine wanted from now on. The thought nagged at him all day, and he cursed himself for letting Sebastian worm his way into his head once more.  
  
That night, Kurt lay on his back on their bed, as Blaine hovered over him, covering his mouth with a lingering kiss. Kurt’s breath hitched as he felt Blaine’s fingers brush over his nipple, and he smoothed his hands down Blaine’s back, kissing him in return.   
  
But Sebastian’s stupid idea wouldn’t leave him alone, and so he pulled away, whispering Blaine’s name when Blaine chased his mouth.  
  
Blaine nuzzled his cheek for a moment and then pulled back, giving Kurt room to turn and look at him.  
  
“Can we do something else tonight? Not! Not…something more,” Kurt elaborated when he saw the eager look in Blaine’s eyes, hoping he wouldn’t be too disappointed, “but…perhaps we could take Pavarotti and Drizzle for a ride? Or…or see if anyone’s out by the fire still; we could take your pipe and join them?”  
  
Blaine kissed Kurt’s lips quickly, laughing softly. “It’s far too late to take the horses out. And everyone else has gone to bed by now. We’ve all an early morning tomorrow.” Kurt’s eyes fluttered shut, but he could hear the frown in Blaine’s voice when he spoke again. “What is it?”  
  
Kurt’s mouth twisted. He didn’t want to hurt Blaine, but did not know how else to say it. “I don’t want to make love tonight.”

He felt Blaine shift off of him and lie beside him, and so opened his eyes. “Are you angry with me?”  
  
Blaine drew him to his side. “Of course not. But I must ask you: have you ever felt this way any of these five nights past?”  
  
“No, Blaine, not at all. I’ve…loved every moment with you.” Kurt could feel himself flushing, but ignored it, too curious as to Blaine’s question.  
  
“Good. That’s good. May I ask why things are different tonight?”  
  
Kurt hesitated, but knew he must ask a question of his own. “What if I never wanted to make love with you again? Would you…what would you think of that?”  
  
He saw the hurt flash in Blaine’s eyes, the frown on his mouth, and his own heart clenched in pain. But he needed to press on.  
  
“Kurt, I don’t understand-“  
  
“What if we went back to how we were a week ago?”  
  
“Is that what you want?”  
  
Kurt pressed his hand to his face. “I’m not saying that; I…please, just answer me. Please.”  
  
“I…” Blaine’s voice sounded strained. “I want to be honest with you. I love what we’ve been doing, and I hope to one day do more, whenever we both desire to. But as long as you’re with me, I’ll be happy.”  
  
Kurt moved his hands away from his face and looked at him. “You are saying…”  
  
“I am saying if we never make love again, I will certainly miss it, but having you, happy, and in my life, is far more important.”  
  
Kurt blinked back the tears springing to his eyes and kissed Blaine, brushing back the curls that had fallen across his forehead. “I love you.” He rushed to explain: “I didn’t know if that’s all we’d be doing from now on…if that was all you’d be wanting.”  
  
Blaine groaned, grinning a little as he touched his forehead to Kurt’s shoulder, and Kurt knew he finally understood. “I’ve been a cad, haven’t I? Sometimes I’m simply terrible at romance.”  
  
“Hush,” Kurt admonished, “you most certainly are not.”  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine said, suddenly very earnest. He pulled Kurt closer, cupping his cheek with one hand. “I never intended for you to think that this was all I wanted now. Perhaps I’ve been a bit…overzealous the past few days, but please believe me: I enjoy your company no matter what we are doing. And we can certainly do other things, all the things we’ve done in the past, and new things besides.”  
  
Kurt felt something tighten in his chest, and then the tension left his body. He snuggled closer and peppered Blaine’s jaw with kisses. “Let’s go picking berries tomorrow evening.”  
  
“We’re in apple country now.”  
  
“Apples, then,” Kurt murmured, kissing the Adam’s apple of Blaine’s throat. He hooked his leg over Blaine’s hip and rocked forward slightly.  
  
Blaine gripped his hip. “I thought you didn’t want to…?”  
  
“A man is entitled to change his mind.”  
  
Blaine brushed his mouth over Kurt’s, grinning. “Thank goodness for that.”

***  
  
Three nights later, Kurt was wrested from sleep by the sounds of clashing blades, screams of pain, and battle cries. He looked around frantically, stumbling from the bed, but Blaine was nowhere to be seen. Panicked, he shoved on his boots and pulled a shirt over his head, tucking his whittling knife into his boot and grabbing a larger dagger out from Blaine’s collection for his belt before rushing from the tent.  
  
He went still at the sight before him as men fought, slinging their swords, throwing their fists, and swinging their staffs. Everywhere he looked, the outlaws he knew were locked in battle with fierce outlaws he knew not. Stunned at the fact that he had slept through so much, he stood, gaping at the spectacle before him, but then let out a yelp as hands gripped his shoulders and threw him to the ground.   
  
He gasped in pain and opened his eyes, pushing himself back to scramble away from the leering man now crouching down over him as his chest filled with fear.  
  
“What a pretty trinket!” The man sneered, reaching forward to grab at him, but Blaine’s instructions in combat suddenly flew into Kurt’s mind and he brought a hand up hard and fast, ramming the heel of it against the lech’s nose. A roar of pain and rage answered the sickening crunch the blow produced, and Kurt flipped over on to his stomach to get to his feet and run away, but a heavy weight landed upon him – the man again – and nearly knocked the breath out of him. He dared not call out, not knowing if friend or enemy was nearer to him. With panic rising in his throat, he clawed at the dirt beneath him, wriggling out far enough to pull up a leg and, looking over his shoulder, kicking back so that his foot connected solidly with the man’s jaw.  
  
“Still you persist?!” He yelled as the man pressed on with another roar, managing to turn to face him again, just in time for the man’s hands to close around his throat.  
  
Kurt choked, hands fumbling at his belt as the cur squeezed the life out of him, bringing the dagger up as his vision began to blur and swinging wildly. The man slumped down on top of him and Kurt cringed as blood splattered across his face. He opened his eyes when the man’s hands fell from his throat and took a gulp of air, shuddering when he took note of the handle of the dagger, protruding from where it lay buried in his attacker’s neck.  
  
He felt numb as he struggled to push the dead body off of himself and crawl backwards, trembling. The numbness didn’t last, however. He rose to his feet and turned around, only to be seized by another outlaw, this one larger than the last, who laughed menacingly and pushed him to the ground, pulling at his clothes.  
  
“No,” Kurt yelled as he tried to fight him off, a sob escaping his lips, “ _no!_   Please, Blaine, Blaine…”  
  
The man tore his shirt, but then suddenly rolled off of him with a grunt, and Blaine stepped over Kurt with the foot he had just used to kick the man in the ribs. With a feral growl, he crossed the two swords he held, placing them on either side of the outlaw’s neck, and with a sudden jerk of his arms, slit the man’s throat both ways.  
  
Kurt stared up at where Blaine, covered in dirt and blood, stood over him, looking down at him with wide eyes, his mouth trembling.  
  
“Kurt,” he breathed, the name on his tongue a loving caress, despite the situation.  
  
Kurt’s eyes widened in fear as he saw a figure coming up behind his lover, axe raised in hand.   
  
“Behind you!” He screamed, and Blaine pivoted, blades flashing by the light of the moon. He plunged one of them into the man’s heart, but he was not quick enough: the axe met its mark, slicing across Blaine’s chest. Kurt screamed again as Blaine fell backwards and on top of him. A wayward elbow collided with his temple, and then all he knew was black.


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned in pain, which made him cringe even more at the soreness in his throat.  
  
“Kurt!” Finn’s face was suddenly hovering over him, managing to look both concerned and confused.  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt rasped, his voice coming out strained and hoarse. He winced again at the pain it caused him. “Blaine! Tell me-“  
  
“Shh,” Finn said, patting his shoulder awkwardly, “He yet lives. His wound pains him, but he will survive. Luckily, the battle was drawing to a close by the time you were both struck down…”  
  
Kurt struggled to sit up, ignoring the various aches throughout his body that the movement produced. He swung his legs off the bed.  
  
“…kill most of them, and the rest ran off. A victory – Kurt, what are you doing?!”  
  
“I must see him, Finn,” Kurt whispered urgently, the only way to spare his throat, which felt thick and painful no matter what he did.  
  
“You should rest-"  
  
Kurt got to his feet and swayed, his sight blurring. He felt Finn’s hands on him, steadying him.  
  
“You should not be on your feet yet.”  
  
“Help me to him, then,” Kurt demanded, “or I shall crawl there.”  
  
Finn grumbled to himself, but then, looking very guilty, slid an arm around Kurt’s waist and led him outside. Kurt squinted against the bright sunlight of midday, and allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment as Finn took him to Blaine’s tent. His muscles trembled with the effort and he felt ready to collapse by the time they reached their destination.  
  
“I can go on my own from here,” he insisted stubbornly to Finn as he pulled back the tent flap.  
  
Michael was inside. He stood up when Kurt entered, but Kurt barely noticed him. “Blaine,” he whispered, all thoughts of aches and pains leaving him as he rushed to Blaine’s side, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
“He’s been sleeping mostly,” Kurt heard Michael say quietly.  
  
“I do not care,” Kurt answered him, keeping his gaze on Blaine’s face, “I only want to be here with him.”  
  
Blaine’s handsome face was unmarred, but for a light sheen of sweat that stuck his curls to his forehead. Kurt smoothed them back with tentative fingers before allowing his eyes to travel down. He gasped quietly at the bandages wrapped around Blaine’s torso, stained red with his lover’s blood.  
  
“The cut is not deep,” Michael said comfortingly, “it looks worse than it is. I will leave you for a moment.”  
  
“Thank you,” Kurt murmured, though he did not look away Blaine. Michael had left a basin of water and a damp cloth by the bed, and Kurt reached for it, wringing out the water from the cloth and then smoothing it over Blaine’s face gently, and then his chest and his arms.  
  
“Oh, love…”  
  
Blaine’s eyes opened slowly at his words. Kurt gave him a watery smile, cupping his cheek. Blaine smiled back weakly, but his eyes crinkled and there was no denying the affection in the way he looked up at Kurt.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine said quietly, his voice also dry and hoarse. He lifted up a hand and grazed his knuckles across Kurt’s throat. “You have bruises.”  
  
Kurt touched his hand to his tender throat, where he imagined purple bruises in the shape of hands lay, and then took Blaine’s hand in his own. “Yes, well, you’ve a great cut across your chest,” Kurt told him wryly, “what an impressive pair we make.”  
  
Blaine chuckled quietly, but then his face screwed up in pain as his laughter turned to coughing. Kurt tried to shush him. “You should rest more.”  
  
“So should you,” Blaine said once he had stopped coughing. “Stay here with me.”  
  
“There’s no where I’d rather be,” Kurt told him, pressing their lips together gently. He crawled over Blaine to the empty part of their bed and snuggled to Blaine’s side, kissing his shoulder and hugging his arm, careful to avoid touching his injured chest. He pressed his face, eyes stinging with relieved tears, against Blaine’s shoulder, whispering words of love and gratitude into his skin, treasuring each rise and fall of Blaine’s chest.

***  
  
Kurt and Blaine spent the next two days in bed, recovering. Kurt felt well enough after a day of rest, but he wanted to stay and look after his lover.  
  
The following morning, Puck checked in on them, striding into the tent without warning, and was treated to the sight of Kurt reading to Blaine, who had his head resting in his lap.  
  
“Morning, Puck,” Blaine said cheerfully.  
  
Puck raised an eyebrow. “You know, you’re going soft, Blaine,” he said casually. “That’s what happens when you’ve got someone regularly parting his thighs for you. That fucker never would’ve landed the blow that’s got you in bed and us delayed for another week at least if it weren’t for the boy.”  
  
“If it weren’t for the man I love’s words of warning, I would be dead,” Blaine countered easily, nuzzling against Kurt’s thigh a little and making him blush.  
  
Despite the coloring of his cheeks, Kurt had had quite enough. “The boy - ” he glared at Puck, “the man you love -” he tapped Blaine on the nose lightly, “is right here, and neither of you need speak of him as though he isn’t. And Puck, you only needed someone to part her thighs for you the one time in order to rob you blind. So care to tell me who the soft one is again?”  
  
Puck scowled at him, but Kurt could see the grudging respect behind the sour twist of his mouth. “You’re far too smart for this early in the morning.”  
  
“Or perhaps all that ale has finally addled your brain permanently,” Kurt chirped, smirking at the reddening of Puck’s face.  
  
Blaine was chuckling. “You are cruel,” he said, patting Kurt’s knee and continuing to giggle until a pained look overtook his face. Kurt petted his hair soothingly until it went away.  
  
“You mustn’t aggravate your wound, Blaine,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss his curls, “I would see you healthy and on your feet as soon as possible.”  
  
“Only so that I may hold you in my arms as I used to,” Blaine replied, and Kurt heard a gagging noise. Puck was staring at them in disgust.  
  
“You two make me sick.”  
  
“Well, by all means then, take your leave,” Blaine invited him, amusement playing on the corner of his mouth. “Though I think your tender heart, hidden beneath all that surliness and swimming in a pool of ale, enjoys the sight, or you wouldn’t have interrupted us at such an early hour.”  
  
Puck gaped wordlessly for a moment and then squared his shoulders. “I should like to take a party in to Lima. We’re about an hour outside the town.”  
  
Blaine shrugged. “Of course you may do as you wish, though I admit I will regret missing all the revelry.”  
  
“You bet your ass you will,” Puck said, grinning, his mood apparently improving instantly at the thought of visiting Lima’s brothel and drinking himself into a stupor yet again.

“It is a good idea to go into town,” Kurt mused as Puck left, “perhaps I will go, too, and find some medicine to aid your healing.” He slid out from underneath Blaine, resting his lover’s head gently on the bed. “I shall go arrange it with Puck.”  
  
Blaine caught his hand. “Go with him and check on Sebastian, will you? I Would like to know how he fares.”  
  
Kurt’s eyebrows shot up. “You would?”  
  
Blaine frowned at him in confusion. “Of course I…Kurt, are you jealous?”  
  
“No,” Kurt protested, crossing his arms at Blaine’s face, which seemed far too charmed for his liking, considering the topic of conversation at hand. “Only I…I can’t see why you would inquire after him.” He pursed his lips, pouting, when Blaine laughed.  
  
“Well, he is my prisoner, after all. He stands to fetch a sizable sum, which will keep the men in food, wine, companions, as well as purchase new clothes and weaponry. The ransom paid for him will decrease with every scratch on him.”  
  
Kurt felt like an idiot. It made perfect sense for Blaine to be concerned about the well-being of his prisoner. But Sebastian had always been a sore spot for him, and he had been quite content not to think on him at all over the past few days.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine said softly, “you cannot think I care for him. Sebastian means nothing to me.” He reached up and touched his hand to Kurt’s heart. Kurt took his hand and pressed his lips to the tips of Blaine’s fingers.  
  
“I know. I was being stupid; forgive me.”  
  
“Nothing to forgive,” Blaine told him with a smile. “Now go make your plans with Puck, and promise to have a good time in Lima! But not too good a time.”  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately at Blaine’s suggestive wink, pretending the blush on his cheek did not exist, and left their tent, hurrying to find Puck.

***

Kurt found Puck making arrangements with Finn to go into town (he bit his lip to prevent himself from predicting that they’d simply find yet another lass to squabble over if they went to Lima together; he figured Puck had suffered enough of his verbal lashings that morning) and told them of his plans to go with them. They exchanged a glance and he stared them both down, daring them to protest.  
  
When they did not, Kurt told Puck they were to look in on Sebastian.  
  
“That slimy asshole?” Puck wrinkled his nose and let out a petulant huff, but he followed Kurt to Sebastian’s tent anyway.  
  
On the way, Puck explained who had led the attack against their party three nights ago.  
  
“Mostly just a buncha peasants and farm boys. One of ‘em wrangled them all up cause I guess we killed a couple of their cousins a while back. In that group we attacked – the ones who had you and Lord Stick-Up-His-Ass.”  
  
Kurt shuddered at the memory of it. It seemed a lifetime ago, but the memories came rushing back with unfortunate ease.  
  
Over the weeks, Sebastian had been allowed to walk about, though always with his hands tied, during the day (his feet were bound at night to prevent him from doing anything foolish like running away), but he had evidently lost that privilege and once again sat with both feet and hands tied together, looking very miserable indeed. His face wore a dark scowl when he looked up as Kurt and Puck entered the tent, and it was littered with dark bruises, which branched out from his nose.  
  
“What do you want?” He asked churlishly.  
  
“He’s fine, as you can see,” Puck told Kurt with a roll of his eyes, “so you can go tell Blaine his ransom hasn’t been lost.”  
  
“Oh, it most certainly has!” Sebastian cried indignantly, glaring at Puck. “Look at my beautiful face: marred by some thug because you barbarians can’t defend your own camp! I’m holding you accountable; and my fiancé will not pay the full ransom price now that I’ve been injured!”  
  
Kurt turned to Puck. “One of the invaders injured him? However did that happen? I thought you fought them back before they had a chance to raid any of the tents.”  
  
Puck smirked down at Sebastian. “Nah, he’s full of shit.”  
  
“How else do you explain the bruises on my face?” Sebastian demanded.

“First of all, Finn stupidly left your feet untied that night because you managed to trick him into feeling sorry for you. Second of all, _you_ stupidly ran outside with your hands still tied and no weapon into the middle of a battle…”  
  
Kurt covered his mouth in amusement. He’d always known Sebastian to be incredibly arrogant, disgusting, and generally mean-spirited, but he’d never taken him for such a fool.  
  
“And third? I saw you, you moron. Nobody hit you; nobody got the chance to. You ran screaming into a tree and broke your own nose.”  
  
Kurt couldn’t stop his laughter, and it burst forth from his lips as Puck snickered along, bowing his head to Kurt’s shoulder.  
  
“Stop!” Sebastian ordered, sputtering. “Who do you think you are to be laughing at me? A lowly, ugly servant boy and a dirty, wild animal. You have no right!”  
  
Puck scoffed. “Your title means squat out here, milord.”  
  
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him. “But coin means a great deal, as does power. My fiancé will destroy all of you once he hears of how you’ve treated me!”  
  
Kurt tried not to let Sebastian’s threats worry him, but he had seen the things his former master had gotten away with, the horrible things he had done to people on a whim. He knew that Lord Edward of Westerly was reputed to be an even more powerful figure, and he feared for Blaine’s safety, and that of the other friends he had made among the outlaws as well.  
  
Puck was not cowed. “You go on believing that. In my experience, even the most powerful of men turn into crying little boys and gladly hand over the ransom to see their loved one home safe.”  
  
“His fiancé doesn’t love him,” Kurt told Puck mildly.  
  
“Shut up, slut!” Sebastian spat at him.  
  
Kurt arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Really? Is that all? I’m disappointed.”  
  
“No, that’s not all,” Sebastian sneered. His eyes darted over to Puck. “Tell me, how long did you wait before you bent over for this dog here? I know he prefers women, but honestly, when it comes to you, I can’t really tell the difference. I bet if we stripped you naked, we wouldn’t find-"  
  
But his vicious monologue was cut short on a yelp when Puck suddenly punched him in the eye with no small amount of force.  
  
“Puck!” Kurt admonished, but Puck did not seem repentant in the slightest. He smirked and shook out his hand as he watched Sebastian howl with pain from where he had tipped onto his side.  
  
“I know it’s not honorable to attack a helpless man, but–" he shrugged, “-what can I say? I’m very happy leading a life of dishonor.”  
  
“Now that will certainly lower the ransom price,” Kurt scolded, but he softened his words with a smile.  
  
Puck grinned at him. “Blaine can take the difference out of my split. That was worth a few coins.”  
  
Kurt couldn’t help but feel a new sense of friendship with Puck as they left the tent together, Sebastian cursing them on their way out.


	13. Chapter 13

Carmel had been a rough town. Kurt was told that Lima was even more so. As he kissed Blaine goodbye, he promised he would stay close to Finn or Puck at all times (Michael had chosen to stay at the camp to look after Blaine. “Lovelorn fool,” Puck scoffed.). Unfortunately, that meant his very first visit to a brothel.  
  
“Lima has one of the best brothels I’ve ever been to,” Puck told him gleefully, rubbing his hands together, as they walked their horses into town. Puck had procured himself a new horse back in Carmel, and named him Jack Daniels, after the drunkard who had made the sale for far too little coin.  
  
“That’s what you said about Carmel,” Kurt said mildly, reaching down to pat Pavarotti’s neck, “is every brothel you know one of the best you’ve ever been to, then?”  
  
“Ah, but Puck has a soft spot for the owner of the brothel,” Finn said, sending Puck a knowing glance.  
  
“Wrong as usual, Finn.” Puck grinned lasciviously. “There’s nothing soft about the way Madame Zizes makes me feel. And unlike some of the other women we’ve fought over, she knows better than to waste her time with a boy like you when I’m around.”  
  
Finn looked a little scared at that. “That’s just fine with me.”   
  
Suffice to say, Kurt was looking forward to meeting the woman that so captured Puck’s attention and unnerved Finn, and she did not disappoint. Madame Zizes was a big, formidable woman, who wore a smirk that told Kurt she could snap him in half if she felt like it. Kurt rolled his eyes as he heard Finn shuffle to stand behind him, as if he could block the great oaf from the intimidating woman’s view. Puck was attempting to appear cavalier as they stood in the parlor of the brothel, and doing a terrible job of it, in Kurt’s estimation.  
  
Madame Zizes appraised them with a bored raise of her eyebrow, and seemed to find them very lacking. “This is all you bring me, Puckerman?” She said, crossing her arms over her ample bosoms.  
  
“There’s a few more men waiting outside,” Puck told her, and Kurt turned to stare in surprise at the wheedling tone he used.  
  
“Well, tell them to come in. If there’s not enough business, I’m not going to waste my time,” she ordered, nodding to a woman standing behind her, who disappeared, but soon returned with a procession of scantily clad women. Kurt’s cheeks burned at this entirely foreign situation, and glanced over his shoulder to see more of Blaine’s men shuffling in meekly. It seemed as though they all knew how to pay proper respect to the owner of the brothel.  
  
“Alright, ladies, take your pick,” Madame Zizes said with a wave of her hand. Kurt found this to be very odd; he was sure the customers normally chose which woman they wanted to go to bed with. However, this appeared to be how Madame Zizes ran her brothel, and Kurt watched as Blaine’s men eagerly followed the teasing and sultry women who pulled them upstairs. One woman took Puck’s hand and began to tug him up the stairs.  
  
“Uh, Lauren,” he said hesitantly.  
  
She looked up sharply from a selection of little cakes, her lip curling. “If you’re still on your feet when Suzy is done with you, I’ll give you my attentions, free of charge.” She grinned wickedly at him as he glanced down nervously at the woman clinging to his arm.  
  
Suzy stared up at Puck with very intense eyes. “I like things very hot,” she informed him baldly, “I hope you don’t mind.”

Kurt hid a giggle behind his hand at the alarmed expression on Puck’s face, but only until one of the women tried to take hold of his arm.  
  
“Oh, ah, no, thank you,” he told her politely, pulling away. The girl pouted and looked up at him through her lashes, much as Tina had once demonstrated for him.   
  
“Don’t be offended, Sugar,” Madame Zizes said, looking at Kurt closely, “this one has a different sort of taste. Jeremiah!” She barked over her shoulder, and soon a line of young men dressed in revealing clothing filed into the room, focusing on Kurt and smirking.  
  
A young man with golden, wavy hair came in last, and spoke eagerly, his eyes darting around the room. “Where’s Blaine?”  
  
Kurt felt an awful twisting in his stomach as he realized this man had probably been with Blaine…made love with him in ways Kurt had not. His lips firmed into a narrow line and his face felt as though it were on fire.  
  
“That is certainly not Blaine,” another boy said, this one with light hair and an innocent face. He strutted forward, trailing a finger down Kurt’s chest. “Hi, honey. I’m Chandler. Why don’t we head upstairs?”  
  
Kurt felt overwhelmed. He had in the space of a minute encountered a former lover of Blaine’s and had had a strange man proposition him for sex. He couldn't imagine making love with a stranger, couldn't imagine the sharing the intimacy he had with Blaine with another person. He backed away, stumbling a little. “No, that’s quite alright,” he said, first to Chandler and then Madame Zizes, “really, I don’t want-“  
  
“First-timer, eh?” Madame Zizes asked, pursing her lips. Kurt heard one of the men snicker. “Tell you what. You can have one go with Chandler for free, because you’re pretty and polite.”  
  
Chandler looked quite pleased at the prospect, his eyes lighting up as he reached for Kurt once more.  
  
“That’s…a very kind offer; I do appreciate your generosity, Madame Zizes,” Kurt said carefully, squaring his chin and holding up a hand to stop Chandler’s advance. “But, truly, I am here only to accompany Blaine’s men. In fact,” he said, turning to look at the man who had inquired after Blaine, “you could say I am here in his stead. He trusts me a great deal, you see.” He felt a petty sense of satisfaction at the scowl the wavy-haired man gave him.  
  
Madame Zizes shrugged, waving the men away. Chandler pouted and the blond man glared at him suspiciously. “Have it your way, as long as you have the coin to pay for the lot upstairs. You can keep me company while I count up yesterday’s earnings.”

***  
  
Kurt sat, legs crossed, on a little bench in Madame Zizes’s office, awkwardly nibbling on a little cake from a selection she had offered him. He cast his gaze about at all the stacks of gold in the room.   
  
Madame Zizes was muttering under her breath, brow furrowed, as she made notes in a large ledger. She seemed entirely focused on her work, but Kurt knew she didn’t trust him with her money; the only reason she had allowed him to sit in her office was because she had eyes like a hawk.  
Some time passed after Kurt finished his cake, and he stubbornly tried to ignore the groans of pleasure and thudding of headboards from the floor above that reached his ears. Madame Zizes suddenly slammed her ledger shut, making him start.  
  
“So,” she said, taking a bite out of a crumpet and chewing slowly, “you’re a friend of Puck’s.”  
  
“…I suppose you could say that.”  
  
She smirked at him. “But you’re more than a friend of Blaine’s.”  
  
He felt his cheeks heating up. “Blaine and I are close.”  
  
“Thought so. Jeremiah was disappointed.”  
  
Kurt felt another flare of jealousy in his chest, remembering the handsome man with blond, wavy hair, who had looked around eagerly for Blaine. He tried to steer the subject of conversation away from that sore spot.  
  
“I did not know brothels employed men.”  
  
“Not all do. But when I’m running the show, we provide whatever the customer wants, as long as all parties are willing and there’s enough coin involved. All my boys know how to use their hands, mouths, dicks, asses and whatever else it takes to pleasure their customers. Why? You want me to call Chandler for you after all?”  
  
Kurt blushed furiously. He supposed there were all manner of erotic delights that people engaged in about which he remained woefully ignorant. He knew he and Blaine had barely scratched the surface. “No, thank you.”  
  
Madame Zizes leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “So it’s love, then.”  
  
“I-"  
  
“Or are you really a virgin? Those are rare around these parts.”  
  
She was looking at him so mildly, as though the owner of a brothel would not mock him for his lack of his experience. In truth, he did not know how to respond. He considered what he and Blaine did to be making love, so could he really count himself a virgin? He tried to change the subject again, but found himself inadvertently answering her question, as flustered and curious as he was.  
  
“Doesn’t it hurt?...When you…have someone inside you?” Kurt could not imagine his face getting any hotter at this point, but he reasoned that he was merely consulting with a professional.  
  
“It can. Not if you do it right, though.” She grinned, her eyes glittering. “Just ask Puckerman. I do it right for him every time.”  
  
It took a moment for her meaning to become clear to him. His jaw dropped and his eyes bugged out. “You…you can’t mean…?”  
  
She merely smiled knowingly at him, before pulling open a drawer in her desk. “You seem pretty new at this whole sex thing, kid, and I like you. So here’s a little token from someone who has had her share of experience.” She tossed something Kurt’s way and he caught it with both hands, startled at her sudden friendliness. “It might be of use to you some time in the future.”  
  
Kurt thanked her quietly, and stared down at the small bottle of oil in his hands. He listened to the cries and moans of pleasure from the floor above, thinking over Madame Zizes’s words.

***

When Madame Zizes offered to call Chandler in for a demonstration if Kurt could provide enough coin, Kurt blanched and decided to take his leave, assuring the remarkable woman that he would be safe to wait in the parlor.  
  
He was not alone. When he walked through the door, he spotted a dejected Finn sitting on a far-too-dainty chair and staring at the floor. When Kurt asked what was wrong, Finn flushed and mumbled something about “arriving early”. Kurt blushed as well, a smile playing on his lips, but he did not tease Finn, for he now had an escort to the apothecary to retrieve medicine for Blaine’s wound. Finn’s mood improved after they purchased the salve that would aid Blaine’s healing, and the rest of the men were in high spirits during the journey back to camp, libidos sated and egos thoroughly fluffed.   
  
Much to Kurt’s acute embarrassment, he did notice Puck wince slightly whenever his horse broke into a particularly jaunty trot.


	14. Chapter 14

The night was still quite young when Kurt returned to Blaine, helping him out of his shirt and removing his bandages so that he could apply his medicine. When Blaine hissed at the salve applied to his wound, Kurt giggled at him.  
  
“My, what a rough-and-tumble outlaw you are!”  
  
“It’s cold.” Blaine pursed his lips into a pout, eyes twinkling up at Kurt, and so Kurt laughed again and leaned down to press a quick kiss to his mouth.  
  
After he had used up half the salve and redressed Blaine’s wounds, Kurt lay beside him and cuddled into his lover’s side, lacing their fingers together and resting their hands on Blaine’s stomach. His thumb drew lazy circles in the bare flesh of Blaine’s belly.  
  
“I miss you,” Kurt murmured into Blaine’s ear, enjoying the way Blaine shivered a little when Kurt’s lip grazed over his earlobe.  
  
Blaine turned his head to the side and kissed the underside of Kurt’s jaw. “But I’m right here.”  
  
“No, I-“ Kurt blushed. “I miss…being with you.”  
  
“Ah.” Blaine looked regretful. “I miss being with you, as well. I’m sorry, Kurt. But I cannot do much until my wound is more properly healed.”  
  
“Hush. Don’t apologize. You have that wound because you were protecting me; how could I begrudge that?”  
  
Blaine hummed, squeezing Kurt’s hand, and Kurt fell silent, thinking.  
  
“Blaine,” he said, sitting up a little and settling his nervous gaze upon their intertwined hands, “do you ever…pleasure yourself?”  
  
He could hear the smile in Blaine’s voice. “Yes. Do you?”  
  
“Sometimes,” Kurt said shyly. When Blaine squeezed his hand again comfortingly, Kurt glanced down into his eyes. “What do you think of?”  
  
Blaine simply stared up at him with dark eyes, a lascivious little smirk playing on his lips.  
  
“Oh,” Kurt said, flushing. He was very pleased to hear that Blaine thought of him as he did Blaine in those private moments. “I suppose that makes sense.”  
  
“I like to think so,” Blaine said with a gentle laugh, reaching up to run his knuckles over Kurt’s cheek. Kurt saw him wince at the movement, and so took his hand and placed it back at his side. He took a deep breath, gathering his courage.  
  
“Blaine, I should like to…touch you. Like you pleasure yourself.”  
  
Kurt could actually hear Blaine’s breath catch in his throat for but a moment. He waited nervously, his thumb still grazing over the skin of Blaine’s belly.  
  
“I’d-“ Blaine’s voice was husky, “I’d really like that, Kurt.”  
  
“Yeah?” Kurt said hesitantly, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s face. Blaine’s lips quirked up, and his dark, honey-gold eyes shone with both lust and amusement.  
  
“Without a doubt.”  
  
“Alright…alright…” Kurt disentangled their hands and pushed himself to sitting. He bit his lip for a moment and then began to fumble with the strings of Blaine’s breeches. “Tell me what to do…”  
  
Blaine blew out a breath, and Kurt licked his lips at the rise and fall of his stomach. “Touch me how you would touch yourself. Just…go with your instincts.”

Heart thumping in his chest, Kurt abandoned the strings to smooth his hands gently down Blaine’s thighs, kneading at the firm muscle there. A groan from Blaine had him losing his nerve a little, so he drew back, searching for Blaine’s mouth with his own and kissing him deeply, hovering over his chest so as to not touch his wounds. Blaine pressed a last, soft kiss to his lips as he pulled away.  
  
When he glanced down Blaine’s body again, Kurt felt both impressed with himself and nervous as he took in the evidence of Blaine’s obvious arousal. His own pants were growing tight, so he shifted to uncross his legs and slid his hands down Blaine’s stomach again, until he reached the loosened waistband of his breeches. He let his fingertips skim over the material covering Blaine’s erection, and then cupped him gently, flushing as heat pooled in his belly while Blaine’s arousal grew even more. He heard Blaine moan out his name and saw him clutch at the sheets beneath him. Encouraged, and before he lost his nerve, Kurt slipped his thumbs under the waist of Blaine’s pants and slid them down over his hips, easing them down carefully until Blaine’s cock sprung free.  
  
Kurt had felt Blaine’s length pressed intimately against him before, but this was the first time he had seen him so naked. Still, he only needed a moment of staring with wide, hungry eyes at the thick shaft before him before he was reaching out to touch, hesitantly at first, circling Blaine’s length carefully and loosely near the top and then sliding his fist down slowly. He could hear Blaine’s heavy breathing, noticing the way he strained to keep his hips still as Kurt explored him. “Kurt…so…so good,” Blaine moaned and Kurt soon let out a soft groan to join Blaine’s at the sensation of his palm and fingers skimming over Blaine’s soft skin, tracing the veins in his shaft delicately, marveling at the knowledge that it was he who made Blaine so hard.  
  
“You…you can…tighter-no, wait-“ Kurt pulled his hand away immediately as if burned, shifting to look into Blaine’s eyes, suddenly worried he had done something wrong.  
  
“Come here,” Blaine murmured, and Kurt leaned over to kiss him again. “Thank you, you’re amazing, I love you,” Blaine whispered against his lips. “Give me your hand.” Blaine took his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to his palm, and then, looking at him with lidded eyes, licked a stripe across the skin he had kissed.  
  
“Oh,” Kurt breathed, as Blaine continued to lave at Kurt’s palm with broad, wet strokes of his tongue, pausing to flick the tip teasingly over his heated flesh, before guiding Kurt’s now slick hand back to his cock, which lay flushed against his stomach.   
  
Kurt wrapped his hand around him eagerly this time, tightening his grip and pumping slowly, Blaine’s saliva letting his fist glide more easily over his length. Blaine’s head tipped back with a gasp and his hips bucked up. “Don’t move,” Kurt teased him, “we don’t want to aggravate your injuries.”  
  
“Damn my injuries,” Blaine said with a strangled laugh, but he stayed still, hands fisting once again into the material below him.  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Kurt told him with quiet awe as he watched his white hand move over the darker flesh of Blaine’s cock again and again. He sped up the movement of his hand a little before licking his lips once more and bringing his free hand up to cup Blaine’s balls lightly. Blaine’s hips bucked up again, thrusting his length into the tight fist of Kurt’s hand, and Kurt gasped, though his cheeks were too flushed, his heart beating too quickly, his own arousal straining too hard against the confines of his breeches, to tease Blaine about it this time. Blaine thrust shallowly up into his hand, panting, and Kurt met him with a stroke down every time, until he felt a sudden urge and acted upon it: holding Blaine’s hips still with one arm and leaning down to press a kiss to the tip of Blaine’s cock as he continued to stroke him. He had to jerk his head back quickly when Blaine shook beneath him, moaning his name once more, and came over his fist onto his stomach and chest.

***  
  
After he cleaned both Blaine and himself with a damp cloth, and redressed Blaine’s wounds *again*, cursing himself inwardly for not thinking of the mess earlier (Blaine, meanwhile, giggled at him through a haze of post-orgasmic bliss), Kurt settled into Blaine’s side contentedly once more.  
  
He wiggled his hips away when he felt Blaine’s hand searching blindly for his groin. “Blaine, you needn’t trouble yourself-“  
  
“I assure you, it is no trouble at all to repay such a kind favor,” Blaine insisted with a low murmur, turning his head to kiss and suck at Kurt’s throat.  
  
“You must rest-“  
  
“I can summon the energy if the cause is as worthy as bringing you such pleasure as you brought me.” Kurt shivered as Blaine stroked his inner thigh coaxingly.  
  
“No, truly, I…” Kurt blushed heavily, fully aware of how stupid his words would sound: “I’m not quite ready for that. I’m sorry. I know it seems ridiculous, after what we just did, but for you to see me and…touch me like that, I-I’d like to wait just a little longer.”  
  
“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine said softly, “of course. Of course we will wait, then.”  
  
Kurt hummed, reaching for Blaine’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Thank you. Besides, I’ve discovered that redressing your injuries is a sure way to temper my desire.”  
  
Blaine gasped in mock indignation and Kurt grinned sleepily, burrowing closer under the blankets.  
  
“I met Madame Zizes at the brothel.”  
  
“Ah.” Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine’s voice. “Lauren. Quite the impressive woman.”  
  
“Mm. I met someone named Jeremiah as well.”  
  
He felt Blaine shift next to him. “Did you?”  
  
“Yes. He asked after you. I gather you are in his acquaintance?”  
  
There was a moment of silence, and Kurt began to worry. He had hoped to tease Blaine and ignore his little jealousy, but perhaps Blaine did have feelings for the other man. He bit his lip and waited.  
  
“Kurt…what just happened…that wasn’t because of him, was it?”  
  
“Oh! No, certainly not!” Kurt felt his cheeks heating up. “I wanted to do that, and it certainly wasn’t because of jealousy. I promise.”  
  
“Good.” Blaine sounded relieved. “Because I promise you, I have no romantic feelings for Jeremiah, regardless of the past we share.”  
  
“I suppose my trip to the brothel did spur me on, though, in a way,” Kurt mused. “Conversing with Madame Zizes did spark my imagination.”  
  
“Is that so?” Blaine said with a quiet laugh. “I’ll have to send her a box of those fancy little cakes she likes so much.”  
  
“Have Puck run the errand,” Kurt grinned, “I’m certain he won’t mind.”  
  
***  
  
The salve worked magic. In just a week, Blaine was back on his feet (and he and Kurt had their own private celebration). It was agreed that they would stay outside Lima for three more nights before continuing their journey, to make certain Blaine was well enough to travel. Kurt had reason to suspect Puck was so amenable, as it meant more visits to Madame Zizes. The plan was to stop once more between Lima and the Westerton estate, outside a hamlet called Andeville.  
  
During Blaine’s week of recovery, Kurt spent the days cleaning the horses, sewing clothes, and relaying Blaine’s orders to his men. He also had to split the unpleasant task of checking on Sebastian with Puck, as Finn could no longer be trusted to not accidentally give Sebastian another chance to escape. At night, he lay with Blaine in their bed. He would use his hand on Blaine to bring his to orgasm, loving the feel of Blaine’s bare skin against his palm, the flush of his complexion, the dark, glassy quality of his lust-filled eyes. As Blaine healed and was able to move around again, they also rutted together as they had before, but by the end of the week, Kurt was so overcome with desire for Blaine that he felt ready to bare himself to him in a more literal sense.  
  
The night after Blaine had started walking around again, Kurt lay on top of him, kissing him fiercely as he rolled his hips down to meet Blaine’s upward thrusts.  
  
“Blaine,” he said, breaking their kiss to nibble on his lover’s bottom lip, “I want you to touch me.”

Blaine stared up at him for a moment, and then a smirk spread across his lips slowly, his eyes growing even darker. Kurt’s stomach coiled pleasantly at the sight, and at the way Blaine’s hands petted at his sides.  
  
“Come here,” Blaine murmured, and he leaned up to kiss Kurt, pulling himself into a sitting position and moving back against the pillows. Kurt followed him, heart thrumming with nervous excitement, his breeches straining over his erection.  
  
“Will you turn around, and lie against my chest?”  
  
“But your injuries…”  
  
Blaine shook his head. “They’re almost completely healed now. And I want to hold you.”  
  
Kurt found he liked the idea of being surrounded by Blaine in such a vulnerable moment very appealing and comforting, and so he turned over to sit between Blaine’s legs, leaning back against his bare chest gingerly.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine whispered in his ear, skating a hand down his chest and over his stomach, “the things I desire to do with you…your body is incredible. I’m so lucky that you choose to be with me so intimately.”  
  
Kurt relaxed at Blaine’s loving, seductive words, shivering a little as Blaine’s fingertips run along the edge of his pants. “I feel the same way.” He tilted his chin up and Blaine dropped a sweet kiss to his lips, his hands reaching down to make quick work of the string holding Kurt’s pants closed. “M-maybe with my pants on at first? Would that be alright? Just to start.”  
  
Blaine let out a little groan. “Of course it’s alright. It’s more than alright.”  
  
Kurt nodded and kissed the underside of Blaine’s jaw, taking a deep breath and leaning against him a little more. His head tipped back and he let out a soft moan when Blaine’s hand slid over top of the material of his breeches and cupped him gently, fingers tracing the outline of his erection through his pants. Blaine let out a quiet oath that sounded more like a prayer and cupped him more firmly, pressing the heel of his palm against Kurt’s cock, and making Kurt hiss with pleasure.  
  
“Touch me, Blaine, I…I want to feel you…”  
  
Pressing a firm kiss to the side of Kurt’s head, Blaine wordlessly complied, quickly licking his hand and slipping it under the waist of Kurt’s breeches and encircling his aching cock. Kurt’s hips bucked up a little into the circle of Blaine’s hand and he heard Blaine chuckle, knowing he’s refraining from teasing him. He gripped the firm muscles of Blaine’s thighs in an attempt to keep his wits about him, but it didn’t work very well once Blaine’s hand started moving, sliding along the length of his shaft and twisting with practiced ease over the head. Kurt gasped, his back arching, and couldn’t stop the whimper on his lips when Blaine’s thumb swiped over the head of his cock, spreading the sticky fluid collected there. The calluses on the palm of Blaine’s hand rubbed over the soft skin of Kurt’s length, and the friction made Kurt’s ability to temper his groans disappear completely, but he was too far gone to care how he sounded now.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine murmured, kissing his ear in between his words, “I want to see you. Please let me see you.”  
  
Kurt nodded, and it was all the permission Blaine needed. He gently pulled Kurt’s cock out, using his other hand to help ease the fabric of his pants down, and his hand stilled. Kurt forgot to breathe for a moment. The sight of Blaine’s dark hand wrapped around him was beautiful and incredibly erotic to him, but he had a moment of doubt and stiffened in Blaine’s arms.  
  
“Blaine?” He said quietly, his voice ragged, unsure. “Am I…?”  
  
“Gorgeous,” Blaine rasped, and he started to stroke Kurt again, a little faster now, a little firmer, and Kurt’s fingers gripped at Blaine’s thighs harder, “You’re so gorgeous. And you’re letting me see you like this, all of you, Kurt; you don’t know what that means to me…”

“I love you, I trust you, and, and you make me feel so good, like this, but you make me so happy, too,” Kurt babbled, his eyes rolling back in his head as Blaine’s hand tightened around his length and pumped even faster.  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine panted in his ear, “Kurt, I…I want…”  
  
“What is it?” Kurt asked desperately, because at that very moment, he couldn’t think of anything he would possibly deny his beloved.  
  
“With my mouth…I want to love you with my mouth,” Blaine told him, his hand slowing down to a tortuous pace that had Kurt groaning with frustration. Then his lust-fogged mind made sense of Blaine’s words and his next groan was of a different sort.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Yes, let’s…let’s do that,” Kurt said breathlessly, giggling a little at how quickly Blaine slipped out from underneath him, making sure to help him lie back against the pillows. He felt delirious, dizzy with pleasure and a new batch of nerves as he lifted his hips a little so that Blaine could slide his breeches down his legs and throw them aside.  
  
He was completely naked in front of another man, exposed to his eyes and his touch. But the other man with whom he was so vulnerable was Blaine. The hungry eyes that roved over his flesh were Blaine’s: filled also with love and affection. The rough hands that skated over his legs and chest and stomach were Blaine’s: their touch was gentle and patient and worshipful.  
  
Kurt knew he would not regret it for a moment.  
  
“Can you be naked as well?” He asked, blushing and then laughing at Blaine’s eager grin and the way he hurriedly pulled off his own breeches and then settled down on top of him, nudging Kurt’s legs apart with his knee and laying down between them. And, oh -  
  
The slide of their bare cocks together was something else entirely from the cloth-covered rutting Kurt was used to, and he decided that was certainly something to explore, though another time, perhaps, because Blaine quickly kissed him and then slid down his body, kissing his chest, his tongue flicking over his nipples and making Kurt squirm, his own chest dragging against Kurt’s shaft teasingly. Blaine’s tongue trailed down Kurt’s quivering stomach and Kurt watched, eyes wide, as Blaine nuzzled his thigh, nipping at the soft skin there, before turning his attention to his erection.  
  
Blaine’s hands held his hips down to prevent him from thrusting up as Blaine licked a long stripe on the underside of his cock.  
  
“Oh! Oh, Blaine, that –" but Kurt’s words cut off into a strangled cry when the wet warmth of Blaine’s mouth suddenly surrounded him. His back curved and his hips strained against Blaine’s firm hold as his lover hummed around him, managing to sound both amused and full of desire, and then slid down a little further, sucking gently and tracing his tongue over Kurt’s length in sensuous patterns. Kurt was fast approaching his peak and he writhed under Blaine’s arms, his hands clutching and the beddings beneath him. “Blaine, I’m…”

But Blaine suddenly pulled off of him and Kurt whined in disappointment, though he gladly welcomed Blaine’s lips on his own, licking at the taste of himself on Blaine’s lips. “Not yet,” Blaine whispered teasingly, kissing him once more and rocking his hips so that their cocks brushed together lightly, “you must be very still for me first.” Then he dropped back down and took Kurt in his mouth once more.  
  
“Oh God,” Kurt said brokenly, and his fingers buried in Blaine’s hair, gripping tight for a moment before he forced himself to relax his hands, his entire body quivering at the effort and with the heady pleasure coursing through him. Blaine wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, pumping slowly as his tongue and lips continued to love him, and brought his other hand up to cup Kurt’s balls, pulling on them gently. Kurt’s toes curled and he fought to keep his hips still, but he managed to look down, his eyes locking with Blaine’s, and the sight and sensations overwhelmed him, sending him careening over the edge harder than he ever had previously before he could choke out a warning, and Blaine’s hands and mouth coaxed him through his orgasm.  
  
He was shaking when Blaine lay beside him and wrapped him in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to his lips and face and hair, despite him being covered in sweat. The gentle embrace calmed him, and he turned in his lover’s arms. “Blaine, that was…I do not even have the words.” He could feel his eyelids growing heavy and struggled to keep them open.  
  
“'Twas my pleasure. And I mean it.”  
  
“I should have warned you; I’m so sorry…”  
  
Blaine laughed and rubbed their noses together. “You needn’t worry; I could tell you were about to come. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so arousing as you in that moment, cheeks flushed, eyes wild and dark, your body taut with pleasure…” Blaine’s hands traced over his body, lingering here and there, and his lips brushed over Kurt’s still flushed face, his tongue tasting the sheen of sweat glistening at his throat.  
  
“Blaine, I want…I want to do that,” Kurt said sleepily, “for you, I mean. I want to…it probably won’t be very good, but I want to try.” He shifted a little, attempting to kiss his way down Blaine’s body, but Blaine just smiled and held him close.  
  
“I very much doubt that last point. But perhaps we can try when you’re not halfway to sleeping, hmm?”  
  
Kurt’s fumbling hand managed to find Blaine’s cock, and Blaine sucked in a breath when he wrapped his hand around him and squeezed gently. “But you are still…”  
  
“Your words are slurring, my love,” Blaine said, affection and laughter in his voice, “I can take care of myself. Rest now, and who knows what the sun will bring us when she wakes?”  
  
Blaine made far too much sense, and his voice was far too soothing, and Kurt soon drifted off, he and Blaine wrapped around each other.


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt rose with the sun in more ways than one. He sucked in a sharp breath, pressing closer to Blaine. They were naked, legs entwined, chests brushing against one another. He could feel Blaine’s arousal, hot and hard, and so close to his.  
  
On another morning he might have canted his hips, coaxing Blaine from slumber so they could rock together and find their release. But this morning was different. They were entirely naked together, and as Kurt thought back to what they had shared the night previous, he ached with want and curiosity. Slowly, gently, he moved, rolling Blaine onto his back and giggling when Blaine’s arms closed around his waist and pulled him on top of his body. Propped up on his elbows, he looked down at Blaine’s handsome face, drinking in the way the early morning light cast faint shadows beneath his long eyelashes, sighing at the faint crinkle between his eyebrows. His gaze lowered to his soft, full lips, slightly parted, as though just waiting for Kurt to taste them.  
  
And so he did, dipping his head down so that their mouths could meet. He kissed Blaine, sweet and chaste, and then deep and lingering when Blaine’s arm tightened around him and his other hand reached up to cup his cheek.  
  
“G’morning,” Blaine mumbled, smiling against Kurt’s lips. His eyes fluttered open and Kurt stared down into them, feeling as though he was suddenly coated in their honey-gold warmth. He kissed Blaine’s nose and began to slide down, pressing a hand to Blaine’s chest as he started to move with him.  
  
“Lie back, my love,” Kurt whispered, blushing faintly, “I…want to taste you.” He kissed Blaine once more on the lips, then drifted lower, worshiping his throat, and then lower still.  
  
Kurt certainly felt the novice, hesitant and unsure, but his confidence grew with Blaine’s response: the way his head tilted back as he gasped and groaned, how his hands clutched at the blankets beneath him and he strained to keep his hips from bucking up. When he took him into his mouth, moaning quietly at the heavy weight against his tongue, the texture and taste he was certain belonged to Blaine alone, Kurt felt a new kind of intimacy that made his heart clench. Blaine trusting him to bring him pleasure in such a way, trusting Blaine with his own naïveté and inexperienced attempts to love him with his mouth…it had Kurt’s head swimming with desire and love, and he pressed his hips down onto the bed in rhythm with his mouth until their pace broke uneven and erratic and Blaine’s tug on his hair and breathless warning had him pulling away and gasping as he came.  
  
As he floated back down to earth, Kurt rested his cheek on Blaine’s thigh, feeling the muscle tremble beneath him and smiling shyly. He wiggled his jaw; it was a little sore, but already he felt a stirring low in his belly at the thought of trying again.   
  
Blaine sat up, panting lightly, and grinned, reaching down to card a hand through Kurt’s hair, and Kurt closed his eyes at the tender touch, his cheeks warming. “Well, that was certainly far from perfection,” he murmured into Blaine’s leg, grimacing as he thought of how he had tried to take too much of Blaine too fast at one point and had needed to pause before continuing, of how Blaine had yelped and then reassured him that all was well when Kurt had thoughtlessly scraped his teeth against his cock.  
  
“Come here,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt to stretch out on top of him as he eased back down onto their bed. He leaned up and pressed messy, open-mouthed kisses along his cheek and jaw, licking up the come that Kurt had failed to dodge before licking his way into his mouth. Kurt began to harden once more at the taste of Blaine so potent on his tongue even as Blaine drew back to kiss him gently and speak against his lips: “You are perfect to me.”

***  
  
Two blissful days later, they began their travels anew. The men were all well-rested and in high spirits after their trips to Lima and Madame Zizes’s brothel. Only Puck seemed rather subdued.  
  
“Madame Zizes always wears him out,” Finn told Kurt quietly as they walked. Kurt glanced at Puck, who was nodding off in his saddle. “And as much as he may protest, he feels more for her than just a tightening of his breeches, so he’s always in a surly mood when we leave Lima. He really shouldn’t visit her so often when we’re nearby, but he’s insists on going. Like he cannot get enough.”  
  
Kurt could understand. He had raised a doubtful eyebrow years ago when his father had fumbled through a vague explanation of love-making and had tried to help him understand what to expect, intent on arming him with knowledge before he went off to work at the Everly estate.  
  
“Once you start, Kurt, you won’t want to stop. But, son, I want you to find someone who cares for you to do…these things with. You gotta respect yourself, and they gotta respect you right back. I don’t want anybody to take advantage of you, especially if you’re working for some uppity lord.”  
  
Kurt had promised his father all he wanted to hear, but his situation at the Everly estate had soon banished all thoughts of love and romance and sex from his mind, for he could only associate the latter with his odious master, and had no prospects for the first two.  
  
Now, he had all three, and he was insatiable. He and Blaine used loving hands and mouths to explore each other, and though Kurt’s skin flushed pink each time they peeled away their layers of clothing to bare all, his shyness faded quickly and all that was left was desire and a ravenous appetite for Blaine and any way he could touch and be touched. Though their days were spent travelling and they often collapsed in a tangle of limbs on their bed at night, it never took long for their lust for one another to rouse them from laziness.  
  
As they neared Andeville, the hamlet not far from the Westerton estate, Kurt grew rather excited. Soon he would be rid of Sebastian forever, and with the ransom providing ample coin to line their pockets, he and Blaine and the rest of the men would be set to live comfortably for a long time. His mood was high once they reached the spot they had decided to set up camp outside the hamlet; he hadn’t seen Sebastian or had to endure him for quite some time, the men were all jovial at the thought of the ample coin nearly in their grasps, and Blaine’s hunger for and response to him had Kurt’s confidence growing and heart swelling.  
  
On their second day outside of Andeville, Blaine found Kurt whittling arrows with Finn.  
  
“Do you have some time for me?” Blaine asked, sitting beside Kurt and leaning over to rest his head on his shoulder as he worked.  
  
“Of course. I always have time for you,” Kurt said, reaching over to smack Finn on the arm when he rolled his eyes.  
  
“Very well, then,” Blaine said, standing and offering Kurt his hand, “will you come somewhere with me?”  
  
The sparkle of some promise had lit up in Blaine’s eyes. Kurt smiled, soft and slow, as he took Blaine’s hand, but then let go, telling him to wait for just a moment. He walked away, glancing over his shoulder to see Blaine sit down next to Finn, and then made his way to their tent.  
With trembling hands, he rifled through his things until he found it: the small bottle of oil Madame Zizes had given him, telling him it was important for certain kinds of love-making. He stared at it for a moment, biting his lip, and then tucked it into the pocket in his vest. The curious smile he wore when he returned to Blaine only grew at the sight of his lover, who grinned back at him, tilting his head as if in question. Kurt merely told Blaine to lead the way, and they left Finn behind, walking hand-in-hand through the woods.

As they made their way through the forest, Kurt thought his heart would be pounding furiously, but he was surprisingly calm. He was certain his nerves would come back to him later, but for now, he felt only a quiet determination and gentle bliss wash over him when he glanced at Blaine. He and his lover had shared all kinds of intimacies, physical and emotional, and today they would know each other in yet another new way.  
  
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above, drenching spots on the forest floor in golden light. Kurt smiled to himself; their surroundings were beautiful and romantic, and as much as Kurt wanted to see wherever Blaine was taking him, part of him was tempted to pull Blaine down onto the nearest bed of moss and have his way with him.  
  
When they reached their destination, though, Kurt was glad he had resisted his impulse.  
  
The trees and shrubs gave way to a secluded clearing, and the soft forest floor led to a large pond fed water from a cascading waterfall. The running water glinted in the sunlight, shining like thousands of rushing diamonds.  
  
Kurt pulled Blaine’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles one by one. “It’s beautiful.”  
  
“I used to come here as a boy,” Blaine told him, eyes searching his face with some secret in their depths.  
  
“You did?” Kurt smiled. “You lived here then. In Andeville? Finn tells me it was a very poor town for many years. No wonder you left.” Kurt stroked his thumb across Blaine’s and looked at him with sympathy.  
  
Blaine looked away, out over the water. “Not in Andeville, actually, but…close by. But I always loved this place.” He reached up and cupped Kurt’s cheek, kissing him softly. “Shall we go for a swim?”  
  
Laughing like they were much younger boys, they stripped off their clothing and jumped into the pond. The water was warm from the sun, but clear and deep enough that Blaine could dive under and swim below Kurt’s feet, pausing to kiss his ankle, making Kurt shiver.  
  
When Blaine surfaced, grinning, his long eyelashes glistening, water droplets trickling down his handsome face, curly hair slicked back with water, Kurt’s heart squeezed happily and he flicked some water at him, swimming away and letting Blaine give chase until they could stand where the water came up to their waists. Blaine caught him and made to pick him up and likely dunk him underneath the surface, but Kurt laughed, protesting.  
  
“Wait, wait,” he said, staying Blaine’s hands.  
  
Something on his face must have convinced Blaine, because his eyes softened and he stood up straight.  
  
“I love you,” Kurt told him, placing his hand on Blaine’s chest.  
  
Blaine’s hands covered Kurt’s. “I love you, too.”  
  
Smiling a little, Kurt leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s torso and leaning against him, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Blaine’s arms encircled his waist and Kurt felt him press a kiss to the crook of his neck before burying his face there.  
  
Kurt could not say how long they stood there, holding each other, the water lapping gently at their bodies. When he pulled back, Blaine leaned forward, capturing his mouth with his own. Kurt hummed into the kiss, leaning further against Blaine and burying his hands in his already drying curls. Their lips parted and tongues slid together with tender caresses. Before long, though, their kisses grew deeper, more passionate and urgent as they clung to each other, before they broke away, panting and smiling wide. Kurt’s hands slid down to Blaine’s arms, gripping the muscle there firmly, and then shoved, laughing as Blaine flailed and fell backwards. He swam away again while Blaine recovered, closer to the waterfall, but when he turned to look around, Blaine was nowhere to be seen.

“Blaine?”  
  
A hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him under the surface. When he came back up, he spluttered indignantly and gave Blaine, who was snickering at him, a dirty look.  
  
“Might I suggest a truce?” Blaine asked, eyebrows raised hopefully.  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes and let Blaine kiss him.  
  
“Follow me,” Blaine said, breathless, and Kurt did, right to the base of the waterfall.  
  
They swam past the curtain of water and climbed up onto a slab of rock. Blaine pulled Kurt close and kissed him slowly, lingering over every brush of their lips, despite their wet, naked bodies being pressed flush together. Kurt could feel his desire growing as Blaine kneaded the muscles of his lower back, fingers dipping to graze over the swell of his ass. He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s shoulders and strained closer still, pouring every beat of his heart into their kiss.  
  
Blaine’s hand snuck between their bodies and circled around Kurt’s length. Kurt gasped against Blaine’s mouth and pulled away as he started to pump him slowly. “Blaine…” Kurt took a breath. “I want to make love.”  
  
Blaine nipped at his nose, even as his hand continued its torturous stroking. “Is that not what we are doing?” he teased as Kurt arched into his touch.  
  
“N-no, I mean…I want – I want you inside me.”  
  
Blaine’s hand stilled (Kurt let out a little groan) and he leaned back, though he kept his other arm wrapped around Kurt’s waist. “Kurt…”  
  
Kurt held his face in his hands. “I want you.”  
  
“Here? Now?”  
  
“Yes. I’ve been…thinking about it for quite some time.”  
  
“Kurt, there is something we would need, and I don’t have it-“  
  
“I do.”  
  
“You…do?”  
  
Kurt smiled coyly, his cheeks flushing. “When we visited Lima, I spoke with Madame Zizes about…certain matters. She gave me some.”  
  
“Some…” Blaine looked into Kurt’s eyes carefully, his hands now rubbing gentle circles on his back.  
  
“Some oil,” Kurt said firmly, knowing Blaine was searching for any hint of hesitance. “I want this, with you. Now. If you do, too.”

“Of…of course,” Blaine said, swallowing thickly.  
  
They made their way back to the bank of the pond, where their clothes lay, and pulled themselves up onto the mossy ground, kissing feverishly, kneading and stroking each other’s bodies with intimate familiarity. Their hips ground together as they moaned with pleasure, but Kurt managed to pull away, rolling over to grab his clothes. He plucked the little bottle of oil from his vest pocket before turning back to look at Blaine again from beneath his lashes. Blaine petted his side as Kurt thrust the bottle into his free hand.  
  
“Here,” Kurt whispered, noticing how Blaine’s fingers trembled as he took the bottle from him. “Um…I don’t want to – do I have to be on my hands and knees?” He could feel his skin heating up from his cheeks to his ears, down his throat and over his chest. He wanted so badly to be with Blaine like this, to have Blaine inside him…he didn’t want any ugly memories to taint their love making.  
  
“No, no, my love,” Blaine assured him quickly, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” He bit his lip, golden eyes darkening as they flicked over Kurt’s body. The sight of Blaine drinking him in so greedily helped ease Kurt’s nerves; he felt as though he could melt against the moss underneath his side. “…how about on your back?”  
  
“That sounds good,” Kurt said eagerly, shifting so that his back pressed against the moss, though he kept his head to the side so that he could see Blaine. Then, more shyly, “I would like to look in your eyes.”  
Blaine’s eyes were soft and tender, and he brought a hand up to cup Kurt’s cheek. “That’s what I want, too.” He leaned down to kiss Kurt reached over him to grab their clothes. “Lift up your hips,” he murmured against Kurt’s mouth, sliding the pile of clothing underneath Kurt’s body when he did so. Kurt shifted until he felt comfortable and then reached up, threading his fingers through Blaine’s hair as he kissed him passionately. As their lips parted and tongues explored each other’s mouths, Blaine moved to kneel between Kurt’s legs, guiding them to bend at the knee until Kurt’s feet were planted near his hips. He kissed his way down to Kurt’s chest lazily, flicking his tongue over each nipple and making Kurt gasp and shiver with pleasure. His fingers tightened in Blaine’s hair as his lover pressed open-mouthed kisses to his flesh from his chest down to his stomach, swirling his tongue around his belly button.  
  
Kurt sucked in a breath when he felt Blaine’s fingers grazing up the undersides of his thighs. “Are you going to do it now?” He felt Blaine rest a cheek against the inside of his leg and tore his gaze from the sky to meet his eyes.  
  
“We must get ready first,” Blaine told him, eyes like dark pools Kurt longed to dive into. He leaned down and licked a playful stripe along Kurt’s cock before sinking his mouth down around it. Kurt yelped and accidentally knocked the back of his head against the ground at the feeling of Blaine’s mouth enveloping him, wet and warm and perfect. He strained to keep his hips still as Blaine hollowed his cheeks and began to suck. Such was the intensity of his pleasure that he hardly noticed Blaine’s hands spreading his cheeks, or Blaine’s fingers, slick with oil, moving to trace his entrance slowly, lovingly.  
  
When one finger began to slide inside of him, he wriggled slightly, his body instantly wanting more, his movements encouraging the digit in deeper, despite his confusion.  
  
“Blaine,” he panted, tugging slightly at Blaine’s curls, and regretting it a little when the heat of Blaine’s mouth was no longer surrounding his shaft. He looked down, blushing, and met Blaine’s eyes. Blaine did not move, his finger now buried to the knuckle inside of Kurt.  
  
“What is it, Kurt?” Blaine looked at him with concern. “Do you want to stop?”  
  
“No!” Kurt said immediately, and he gasped, turning bright red as he clenched around Blaine’s finger without meaning to, as though to keep him there. “Just…why are you using your finger?”  
  
Blaine laughed softly and started to slide his finger out. Kurt’s words of protest died on his lips with a groan when he pushed his finger back in, pumping in and out slowly.

“We use fingers at first and oil so that our love making will feel even more pleasurable,” Blaine said, and his voice grew shallow, dark eyes never leaving Kurt’s. Kurt whimpered at the sensation of Blaine’s finger moving inside him. “And so that it will not hurt. Feel how tight you are, just around one of my fingers.” Kurt thought he might come just from the husky sound of Blaine’s voice, the way he looked with lips red and swollen, hair mussed and eyes glassy with desire.  
  
His eyes widened when his mind caught up with what Blaine was saying. “Your…*you* are a lot bigger than a finger.”  
  
Blaine grinned wickedly and Kurt tilted his head back as Blaine added a second finger. He moaned softly, spreading his legs more and baring down around them. Blaine moved his fingers languidly, gently, working Kurt open as he slid back up his body to kiss him again, slipping his tongue inside Kurt’s mouth, mirroring the movement of his fingers.  
  
“Bl-blaine,” Kurt panted, gripping at the skin of his back, “that…feels so-“ But then suddenly Blaine crooked his fingers and brushed something inside of him, and Kurt’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Hu-aaah!”  
  
Blaine scraped his teeth over Kurt’s jaw. “There we go,” he murmured, bending his fingers so that they brushed over that spot again, sending pleasure shooting through Kurt’s body.  
  
Kurt moaned but managed to open his eyes, bringing his hands, which were clutching at the moss beneath him, up to hold Blaine’s face. “More, please,” he said softly.  
  
As Blaine’s fingers continued to move inside him, increasing in pace and grazing that spot over and over, Kurt didn’t realize what was happening. Usually when he came, when Blaine used his mouth or his hands on him or they ground their hips together to reach ecstasy, it felt like a jolt of white hot pleasure coursed through him. But as Blaine’s fingers pumped in and out of him, pressing more firmly against the spot he had found, Kurt’s orgasm came upon him in waves, rolling through him, prolonging his pleasure as he whispered Blaine’s name over and over, gripping his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he pulled Blaine down to kiss him as his lover pressed three freshly-oiled fingers inside, stretching him gently. Kurt whined low in his throat, clenching around Blaine’s fingers.  
  
“F-feel alright?” Blaine asked, his voice deep and rough. He nipped at Kurt’s lips and then traced them with his tongue.  
  
“Yes…I mean no,” Kurt shook his head, letting it flop from side to side, “I want more…Blaine, I want you inside of me. I’m ready.” He reached down blindly to take Blaine’s length in hand and stroke him, but Blaine pushed his hand away.  
  
“No, don’t,” he murmured, kissing away Kurt’s frown, “I will not last.”  
  
“Then wait no longer,” Kurt urged him, “I want you.”  
  
“A-alright,” Blaine stuttered, sliding his fingers out. Kurt watched, breathless, as he poured more oil out onto his palm and then stroked himself, before running both hands along Kurt’s thighs, lifting them up into the air and hooking Kurt’s knees over his arms. He settled in between Kurt’s legs and Kurt groaned in anticipation when he felt Blaine’s hard shaft sliding along his bottom. Blaine cradled the back of Kurt’s head in his hands, cushioning it from the hard ground below, and kissed him softly. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” he murmured, “so gorgeous.”  
  
Kurt stared up at him, his heart caught in his throat. “There is no sight I’d rather have than the one I do,” he replied, reaching down between them to guide Blaine to his entrance. Blaine kissed him again, longer this time, and he felt Blaine’s cock begin to push inside of him. Kurt gasped into his mouth.

Blaine was certainly bigger than a finger, certainly bigger than three fingers, but it didn’t hurt as he eased inside. Kurt felt a queer sort of stretch, but good. Good in an agonizing sort of way, as Blaine moved slowly, sliding inside him at a torturously slow pace. Kurt nodded when Blaine asked if he felt alright, running his hands up and down Blaine’s trembling arms. He was lost in the dark, melting honey of Blaine’s eyes, in the slide of Blaine’s length against his inner walls. He pulled Blaine’s head down so that they could kiss, their bodies finally pressing flush together as Blaine settled inside him completely.  
  
“God, Kurt.” Blaine’s lips brushed his as he spoke. “You feel incredible.”  
  
Kurt said nothing; his heart felt as though it could burst and his mind was foggy with desire and love. Being connected in this way felt amazing. Mere words could not express it.  
  
“H-how do you feel?” Blaine asked, his voice shaky with lust. His body was trembling, and Kurt could tell he was fighting with himself to stay still.  
  
“I feel…complete.” Kurt carded his fingers through Blaine’s curls, pressing his own head back slightly into Blaine’s gentle palms, a tender smile gracing his lips. “You?”  
  
Blaine kissed Kurt carefully and pulled back to look down at him, answering him with a smile of his own.  
  
“I do, too.”  
  
Kurt stared into his lover’s eyes, dark with passion and adoration. He clenched curiously around Blaine’s cock, just once, eliciting a sweet moan from Blaine’s mouth. Then: “Move, love.”  
  
Blaine pulled out of him slowly until just the tip of his shaft remained inside, and then buried himself completely once more, letting out a groan of pleasure. He kept the rocking of his hips slow and gentle, letting Kurt savor the tingling feeling every time he pulled out and gasp every time he filled him, until he was wriggling and arching his hips, urging Blaine to go faster and meeting him with every thrust.  
  
“I love you,” Blaine whispered shakily, pressing gentle kisses to Kurt's face as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, though they remained sensual and gentle. Kurt moaned with pleasure low in his throat, arching his back and clutching at Blaine’s thighs, feeling the taught muscle there, as he enveloped Blaine again and again. Blaine leaned down to nip and suck at his neck, panting into his ear with each thrust.  
  
His own cock ached for attention, and just as he reached for it, Blaine moved a hand from his head to stroke it in time with the rhythm of his hips. Kurt moaned his lover’s name and grabbed his ass, tight and firm, urging him in deeper and just a little harder, until the feeling of Blaine’s shaft sliding inside of him and his oil-slick hand stroking along his length brought him to the edge. Suddenly, Blaine thrust once more and stilled deep inside him with a loud groan, and the sensation of Blaine’s seed spilling within him pushed him over a second time, his eyes locking with Blaine’s just in that moment, breathless, frozen in a space of time.


	16. Chapter 16

The sun warm upon his cheek and Blaine’s hand gently running up and down his side woke Kurt up. He smiled lazily as Blaine nuzzled their noses together.  
  
After the blissful haze of their love-making had cleared, he and Blaine dove into the cool, clear water to bathe, never straying far from one another, and always coming back together to kiss and touch, lingering and playful. When they crawled back onto the mossy bank yet again to dry off and rest, Kurt let his eyelids droop shut as complete satisfaction and happiness lulled him to sleep, and he and Blaine had held each other close.  
  
A quick nap had restored Kurt’s energy, and now he was wide awake, though he was content to remain wrapped up with Blaine in their own little paradise. Such was Kurt’s happiness that he could not find it in himself to feel awkward at being so naked in the plain light of day, not with Blaine so similarly exposed right beside him, every inch of skin available to Kurt’s eyes. And Kurt planned on thoroughly exploring anything and everything Blaine chose to offer him, mind, heart, and body. The sun was still high, and they had all the time in the world. Kurt kissed Blaine slowly, his hand sliding to rub along Blaine’s back.  
  
“Will you tell me about your life?” Kurt asked. “The one before you became a ruffian and stole my heart.”  
  
Blaine was silent for a moment, and Kurt bit his lip in worry, but then Blaine sighed and spoke.  
  
“It wasn’t as bad as you might think. Truly, it is without question that others have led much harder lives than mine. But I was very unhappy; I was trapped in my own home, controlled and forced to do things that would only bring me misery.”  
  
Kurt frowned at the troubled look on Blaine’s face but let him continue.  
  
“I endured it for many years, until one day, I…well, let us say that I had to leave, or I would have been forced into the most dreadful, miserable state of existence I had ever known,” Blaine finished, a wry, mysterious sort of smile on his face. “So I stole away, in the middle of the night, and never looked back. And I never will.” His face still looked clouded with some sort of inner conflict, and Kurt’s heart ached for him.  
  
Kurt wished for more details, but decided not to push, knowing Blaine would tell him more when he was ready. Instead, he leaned in and kissed him, soft and comforting at first. But then his lips became more insistent and ravenous, and he moaned at Blaine’s hands gripping his waist before rolling on top of him and pressing their hips together with an insatiable grin that Blaine seemed more than happy to return.  
  
It was only when they arrived back at camp that Blaine went back to their conversation.  
  
“And you?” He asked, squeezing Kurt's hand and kissing his cheek. “Tell me more of your life before you became a ruffian and stole _my_ heart.”  
  
Kurt smiled, ducking his head and blushing, but before he could begin to tell Blaine of his childhood, Michael and David ran up to them, requesting that Blaine come help break up yet another brawl between Finn and Puck.  
  
Kurt watched them all run off with a laugh and a shake of his head, but there was a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it, determined not to let a single thing ruin such a wonderful day, especially something that would certainly be cured with some roasted rabbit and Blaine’s arms around him, his mouth on his.

***

The following morning, Kurt was in such a good mood, having spent the night curled up with Blaine, feeling warm and loved, that he decided he would bring Sebastian his breakfast.  As he carried the bread and cold rabbit, roasted over the fire the day before, he smiled and whistled, mimicking a songbird that hopped from branch to branch on the trees above, following him on the way to the tent where they were keeping Sebastian.

He pushed the flap of the tent back with his elbow, letting sunlight filter in.  Sebastian was already awake, sitting with his legs crossed and hands bound in front of his body.  Kurt knew he could probably escape the ropes with some effort, but his former employer seemed to have resigned himself to captivity at last.  It certainly helped that they were not far from their destination, and Sebastian would be delivered at last to his fiance. 

"Enjoy," Kurt said with a simpering smile, setting down the food and cup of water.

"Why do you look so satisfied?" Sebastian drawled, reaching for the food.  "Our journey is nearly over.  That savage is going to toss you aside, and you'll be resuming your duties serving me, in your proper place.  Not that your employment will be pleasant."  He sneered nastily.  'I am going to repay you in full for your betrayal and disrespect."

Kurt crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side.  "I will be doing no such thing."

Sebastian blinked at him.  "What?"

"I'm not going with you," Kurt said triumphantly, "Blaine has asked me to stay with him and I have accepted.  I'll not spend a single minute more of my life under your heel, Lord Sebastian; I have found freedom and love, and thanks to your ridiculously wealthy fiance, we will have coin to spare for months to come.  I suppose I forgot to tell you earlier."  Kurt examined his nails idly.  "But then, you've become of so little concern to me these days; it must have simply slipped my mind."  He smiled at Sebastian, who glared up at him.    "Perhaps if you were a little less horrible, you might be able to find even a smidgen of the happiness I have.  Have a lovely day."

Kurt turned on his heel smartly, a grin splitting his face as he pulled back the tent flap.

"And here I thought you were the doting son."

Kurt froze at the sound of Sebastian's soft words.  He stared at the sunlight seeping through the crack in the flap, his breath caught in his throat.

Sebastian continued to speak, his voice silky and musing.  "Wasn't that the reason you took a post in my household in the first place?  Your poor, ailing father, who depends on most of your wages to live?"

Kurt felt his fingertips go numb, and his lips parted.  His father.  When he had left for the long journey with Sebastian, he had made sure his father would be provided for until he could send more money to him and hopefully arrange to have him moved closer.  In fact, he was in debt.  How could he have forgotten...?

"You've enjoyed playing the whore for Blaine so much that you no longer care for your own flesh and blood; is that it?  However will he survive if you are not sending him your wages?" Sebastian tsked.  "You've flaunted your moral superiority in my face for so long, and as it turns out, you are just a selfish, stupid boy.  And now a thief at that.  Or at least sleeping with one."

Kurt carefully pulled the tent flap aside.  He felt cold, so cold, even as he was bathed in the morning sunlight.  He was dimly aware that Sebastian was snickering as he left the tent, but it sounded like nothing more than a buzz in his ears.

He clutched his shaking hands together as he made his way through camp, not thinking to respond to the men who called out to him in greeting.  A passing clap on the shoulder from Puck failed to pull him from his stupor.  He watched the ground as he walked, hating himself.  How could he have forgotten his father, the one person who had been there for him all his life, and the one person who needed him now?  He was a horrible son, horrible and selfish, just as Sebastian had said, though Kurt loathed that the weasel was right.  He reached his and Blaine's tent, ducking inside and sniffling, quickly wiping stray tears that stung at his eyes.  He lowered himself onto the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin, shivering, though not from the cold.

He hadn't forgotten his dear father; not truly.  

But he had failed him in his heart.

***

Blaine found him some hours later, stirring him from a fitful sleep.

"Here you are," Blaine said, smoothing his hair off his face, "whatever is the matter?  Are you ill?" He frowned in worry.  "Are you...in any pain?"

"No, no," Kurt assured him, sitting up and bending to pull the blankets off his body to avoid Blaine's kiss.  He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt his lover's lips press to his temple gently.  "I just...needed some rest."

Blaine shifted to sit beside him, taking his hand between his own.  "Kurt...during our travels, we have experienced many things together, and shared so much.  Making love with you yesterday in my boyhood retreat...it was the most wonderful experience of my life."

Kurt smiled softly, but kept his eyes trained on his hands, unable to meet Blaine's gaze.  He simply could not endure that look in his eyes, not now.

"With everything we've shared," Blaine continued, squeezing Kurt's hand gently, "there...there is something else I wish to share with you."

"Wait, Blaine," Kurt blurted out, finally looking up.  He pulled his hand from Blaine's hold, running both of his along the material of his trousers in agitation.  "I-I must tell you something."

Blaine remained silent and Kurt closed his eyes again, desperately trying to stop his lip from trembling.

"I cannot stay with you once we reach the Westerton estate," Kurt said in a rush, opening his eyes to meet Blaine's gaze despite the smarting of tears, "I must go with Sebastian."

Blaine stared at him, blinking in surprise.  "...what?"

"My father," Kurt said miserably, "God, I've been so...so horribly selfish.  He has loved and cared for me all my life, but he fell ill and I took a post in Sebastian's employ so I could afford to take care of him.  And I've forgotten him!  I was ready to abandon him, penniless and sick to starve to death; I can scarcely believe it!"

"Kurt," Blaine said, his voice desperate, cupping Kurt's cheek, "I have - we have money.  We have gold to spare and we shall have more once Sebastian's ransom is paid.  It is yours to send to your father - "

Kurt shook his head.  "He is too honorable of a man to accept ill-gotten gains."  He winced at the frown on Blaine's face.  "I do not mean to offend you.  My father..." He sniffed, sending Blaine a watery smile and shaking his head slightly.  "Is as stubborn as an ass.  He would not accept it; I know it."  His face crumpled again.  "I've been so selfish and so foolish, making plans to run from my obligations, to abandon my own father like this.  What must you think of me?  I am a coward."  He spat the word out, fisting his hands into his hair.

Blaine's hands covered his, lacing their fingers together.  "No," Blaine whispered.  His voice sounded broken.  "You most certainly are not.  Kurt, you are the best man I have ever known."

"I am so sorry," Kurt said, looking up and clutching Blaine's hands urgently, "I wish to stay with you so badly, but I cannot.  I must take care of my father, even...even if it means a life of servitude under Lord Sebastian's heel."  He could not stop his tears now; they fell as he imagined his life, tortured daily by Sebastian, subjected to who knew what sorts of humiliations and injuries in the wake of his behavior during Sebastian's capture.  But what made him hitch out a sob was the thought of life without Blaine, without his love to brighten his days and share with him a happy, fulfilled existence.

Blaine held him as he cried, hands soothing on his back, but said nothing for a long while.  When he finally spoke, his voice trembled in Kurt's ear.

"I promise you, Kurt, that we shall be together.  I will...I will find a way to make it happen.  I will do anything to ensure you are not alone and unhappy.  You deserve so much more.  More than -"  He pressed a fierce kiss to Kurt's hair.  "I will find a way to be with you."

His loving words brought Kurt no comfort.  He could not see how either of them could make it so, and he hated the waver in his strong, wonderful Blaine's voice.  He hated that he had hurt him so.

***

They met Westerton's envoy at a small clearing.  The guards were well-dressed and expressionless, but for one young man with sun-kissed hair and big lips, who looked at the group of highwaymen with open curiosity, and the woman clearly meant to oversee the exchange: a large, beautiful lass with dark skin who appraised Blaine's men with narrow eyes and pursed lips.  By her expression, Kurt guessed she found them lacking.

"Lord Sebastian Smythe?" She asked as Sebastian and Kurt stepped forward.  Sebastian nodded, sighing with relief.

Kurt felt nothing of the sort.  He felt sick, and he forced himself not to turn his head to find Blaine.  The rest of their travels had been awkward, much to his dismay.  Kurt knew it would be painful either way, but he had hoped their last few days could have been spent in each other's arms, trading the last sweet kisses and murmured words of love.  But Blaine had been distant, shying from his touch, and Kurt knew he had truly broken his heart.

He couldn't bear it.  And he could not bear to say good-bye to his lover, and so they were to part ways without a final kiss.  Kurt bit down on his lip to stave off tears.  He had resolved not to watch Blaine as he left him.

He did see, however, out of the corner of his eye, Michael shift to stand more fully in front of Blaine as the golden-haired Westerton guard craned his neck to look at them.  Blaine had had his hood up; he was a wanted man, after all.

"Well," the woman in charge said, "here is the ransom." She waved a hand in the air and two men pulled forward a cart stacked with chests full of gold.  "It is all there," she snapped at Puck's skeptical snort, "Lord Edward keeps his word.  Most of the time," she added with a smirk.

Kurt thought she was behaving rather oddly.  Surrounded by thieves and ruffians, he expected such a woman to tread with caution, but she seemed quite careless.

"Where is my fiance?" Sebastian demanded.  "I consider it an insult that he is not here, and has sent some wench in his stead to ensure my safe delivery."

The woman rolled her eyes.  "My name is Miss Mercedes Jones, and the fact that I am here should be viewed as a great compliment, Lord Sebastian.  Indeed, Lord Edward is not here because he feared seeing evidence of your mistreatment would send him into a rage and he might endanger you in a reckless and ill-prepared attempt to defend your honor."

Sebastian seemed quite satisfied with this, but Kurt frowned in confusion.  Miss Mercedes seemed entirely too impatient with her new superior, and the golden-haired guard was quite clearly fighting to keep a smirk off his face.

"And this is your servant?" Miss Mercedes asked, turning to look at Kurt.  "Kurt Hummel?"

"Never mind him," Sebastian said dismissively, "I wish to leave immediately."

Miss Mercedes looked at Kurt but a moment longer and then turned on her heel.  "Very well.  At your pleasure, Lord Sebastian.  That is, if this charming group of outlaws are ready to part ways with their captives."

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, hugging his chest as he stepped forward when Michael voiced the affirmative.  He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead, keeping his back straight and head held high as he and Sebastian, along with Lord Westerton's envoy, made their way to the carriage on the forest path, where more guards waited astride horses.

"Farewell, Kurt!" Finn called sadly, and Kurt winced when he heard several of the others shush him.

"My servant will not ride in the carriage, nor upon a horse," Sebastian declared imperiously.

Miss Mercedes put a hand on her hip.  "How will he keep up?"

"He will find a way," Sebastian sneered, casting a venemous look back at Kurt as the golden-haired guard cut the ropes that bound his hands.  "Or he will fall and you will tie him to the carriage and drag him."

"As you say," Miss Mercedes said as Sebastian climbed into the carriage.  As she climbed in after him, she looked at the golden-haired guard significantly, who nodded at her wordlessly.

Once Sebastian was out of his sight, Kurt allowed his tears to fall.  He walked behind the cart with careful steps, making sure not to fall.

But he was weak, and before they were past the clearing completely, his eyes darted back desperately, to gaze upon Blaine's face one last time.

 But he and all his men were already gone.


	17. Chapter 17

By midday, the tears on Kurt's cheeks had dried. He tried to keep pace with the carriage and horses, but his feet scuffed the uneven forest ground more and more.

His entire being ached with the absence of Blaine. His current isolation was palpable; none of Westerton's envoy spoke to him, though he thought perhaps he saw the sun-haired guard smile at him briefly once or twice when he dared to look around. He missed everyone so terribly, Finn's clumsy gait, Michael's steadiness, even Puck's crude jokes and bragging. In addition to the already excruciating longings of his heart, his stomach growled, his throat was parched, and his head continued to spin as their journey wore on.

Finally, it happened. He stumbled and fell, scrambling to his feet as soon as his hands and knees hit the ground. Cursing under his breath, he clutched his stinging palms together, glaring down at the cut in the knee of his breeches as he quickly caught up with the procession. The yellow-haired guard trotted his horse up beside him.

"Wait a moment," the man said, waving the others on with a cursory glance at the curtained windows of the carriage.

"It was only a little stumble," Kurt snapped, despite his exhaustion, "I am perfectly able to continue on this way." He tried to ignore how he was swaying slightly on the spot. His stomach swooped with dread at the prospect of being tied to the carriage. It would only be a matter of time before he was dragging along the ground. He glared up at the guard, squinting in the sunlight.

"Here," the man said, smiling tentatively as he reached his hand down to Kurt, "you can ride with me."

Kurt stared at him for a moment, uncertain. But he found his hand drifting of its own accord to clasp the hand clad in leather before him. "But what about - ?" He looked ahead to the carriage.

"Lord Sebastian is sleeping peacefully," the guard said with a grin, "Miss Mercedes will have given him a sleeping draught. Surely, he needs rest after his terrible experiences with the highway men. What he does not know will not hurt him."

Stunned, Kurt held on as his savior swung him up so that he sat astride the horse behind him. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but Kurt's legs cried out in relief and his body sagged, though he was careful to avoid leaning forward too far.

They continued on their journey, and after a few minutes, the guard spoke again. "My name is Samuel Evans. You can call me Sam if you like."

Kurt wanted to say nothing in response, too miserable he was, heartsick and dreading what awaited him at the Westerton estate. Still, Sam had helped him, apparently with the aid of the women inside the carriage with Sebastian, when he had no reason to. Kurt was, after all, merely a servant, and angering the betrothed of their lord would not benefit them in any way.  "Kurt," he managed to say, quiet and grudging.

"Well, Kurt, we'll be arriving at the estate tomorrow."

"Not today?" Kurt frowned, curious despite himself. "I thought we were not very far away."

"We are not. But we do need to go to Andeville for the night. For...reasons."

Kurt felt it would be too impertinent even for him to press for more explanation, when Sam apparently did not wish to give it, and since his situation was precarious enough already, he stayed silent. 

Sleep quickly crept upon him, and it was some time later that Sam was rousing him from fitful dreams.  "Forgive me," Kurt said, blinking rapidly and leaning away, once he realized his body had fallen forward, and his head had found its pillow in Sam's back as he had slept.

Sam said nothing, and simply swung down from his horse as Kurt stifled a yawn and looked around. People milled about, carts filled with barrels and coal and food passed down streets lined with small buildings. They were in town, in Andeville. Kurt's stomach churned as he remembered this was the last night he had before Sebastian would truly enslave him at the Westerton estate.

When would he possibly be able to send more money to his father? Surely he was running out by now, and there was no one to care for him. Kurt imagined it would be months before he could somehow arrange for his travel to live in Andeville, if that was possible at all at this point.  And Blaine. Kurt imagined he would never see his love again.  His boots thudded against the ground as he slid from Sam's horse with a sickening finality.  The thought of never seeing those glowing amber eyes, never feeling his lover's sun-warmed skin against his, never kissing his soft, firm mouth again, never hearing his voice or sharing a laugh...Kurt fought to keep his absolute misery off his face. He did not want to give Sebastian the satisfaction of seeing such obvious evidence of his despair.

The lord emerged from the carriage just as Kurt was straightening his tunic, looking groggy and annoyed.

"Whatever are we doing here?" He snapped at Miss Mercedes, who followed him out of the carriage. The woman looked just seconds away from striking her new employer. "I've had enough of rough travels and pathetic little towns. I demand to be taken to the Westerson estate immediately. It is outrageous that I'm being treated in this manner, after all I have endured!"

"My lord," Miss Mercedes said patiently, "we've found the best room in the town.  Andeville is closer than the estate, and this will give you a chance to have a hot bath, hearty meals, and a full night of true, restful sleep before seeing your betrothed. I've arranged for every luxury to be made available to you, on Lord Edward's orders."

Sebastian did not look completely convinced, but then he spotted Kurt and grinned nastily, pointing at him. "That one does not sleep inside. Nor is he to have anything to eat."

Miss Mercedes nodded and Kurt hugged his arms around his body.  There was a chill in the air already, and he did not look forward to shivering and fighting off hunger pains all night.  Sebastian, Miss Mercedes, and the rest of the envoy went inside, but Sam stayed behind to make sure their horses were tended to, and the carriage was stored securely.  Kurt sat under the stoop as he worked, staring at his hands, trying to think of how to most quickly contact his father, trying not to think of Blaine altogether. But the clothes he wore were Blaine's and he could not help but dig his nose into the collar of the tunic, closing his eyes and trying to catch his lover's scent.

Light, cool droplets on Kurt's head and arms alerted him to the beginning of a rainstorm, and soon tears joined the raindrops on his face. It was as though the world wished to mock his heartbreak with more physical suffering.

Sam walked up to him. "Come, you can stay in my room."

Kurt looked up warily, wiping his tears away. "Why? You're directly disobeying Se- Lord Sebastian's orders."

Sam shrugged. "They're not very good orders, are they? And my employer did not say anything about treating any new servants like animals."

Still conused, Kurt followed his twice-now savior inside through the kitchens entrance and up to his room, where they found Miss Mercedes waiting.  Kurt watched nervously as the woman placed a soft kiss on Sam's lips, wondering if they'd brought him inside for some underhanded reason.

But Miss Mercedes just ushered him inside the room and told him to sit at the table. There was a plate of food and goblet of water, which Kurt soon understood was meant for him. He stared at the bounty, dumbfounded, before tucking in, uncertain of when his next true meal would be.

Sam and Miss Mercedes spoke quietly on the other side of the room and Kurt's ears strained to hear them, but he was more concerned with the hearty stew, thick bread, and clean water in front of him.  They soon joined him, simply watching him, which Kurt found immensely odd, until he paused long enough to clear his throat.

"I do not understand...why are you doing this for me? Are you two not risking the anger of Lord Westerton? He'll not be happy you've gone against the wishes of his fiance." It wasn't that Kurt was not grateful; he only imagined that the ominous figure betrothed to Sebastian would punish his servants severely for such disobedience. Kurt had no desire whatever to work under the man, especially with Sebastian whispering in his ear and giving him new ideas for ways in which to torment him using the full extent of his wealth and power. Kurt had been a fool to defy Sebastian so openly and for so long; he only hoped he would be the only one to suffer, and Sebastian would not seek revenge upon his father.

Miss Mercedes smiled. "Do not worry about that, lad. Lord Sebastian is too busy being pampered like a prince right now to pay you any mind."

"Besides," Sam said, sneaking a piece of bread from Kurt's plate, until Miss Mercedes smacked his hand, "you can rest easy where Lord Edward is concerned."

Kurt could not see how that could be true.  "How can that possibly be?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Miss Mercedes shushed him with a stern look. "After Kurt is finished with his meal, it's to bed for both of you," she said firmly, "I shall retire to my room and keep an eye on his lordship. Get your rest, because tomorrow will no doubt be a trying day for us all."

Kurt certainly agreed with her on that point.  As he lay next to a snoring Sam on the bed, he wished with all his heart that it was Blaine beside him. He would curl up to him, kiss his hair and rest his head on his lover's chest, listening to his heart beat, rising and falling with every precious breath he took.  He truly appreciated the kindness Miss Mercedes and Sam had shown him, but he knew the next day would bring an end to that, when Sebastian finally had Westerton's ear and the power to do whatever he wanted with his most despised servant.

***

Kurt and Sam woke early the next day, taking food from the kitchens before going outside so that Sebastian wouldn't see Kurt inside, dry and warm and well-fed. They set to work preparing the horses and carriage. Kurt was surprised that Sam didn't make him do the work himself; after all, Kurt was simply a servant boy, whereas Sam was a member of the Westerton guard. But his new companion seemed to enjoy the work, taking extra care with two horses: his own, and one he said belonged to Miss Mercedes.

"We have plans to marry next year," Sam told him, grinning.

"You would do best to avoid Lord Sebastian, then," Kurt told him grimly, "you are exactly the type he would enjoy having in his bed. And that you are in love with a woman would be no deterrent. He'd view you as a challenge, I think."

Sam smirked. "You believe his lordship has no plans to be faithful to his fiance?"

Kurt simply rolled his eyes in reply.  Sam just smirked even more in response to this, and Kurt had to wonder at his reaction. Was he not offended on his employer's behalf that Sebastian would make a cuckold of Lord Westerton as soon as he could?  His time with Sam and Miss Mercedes had Kurt starting to think that perhaps Westerton was not so awful as Sebastian; he certainly seemed to inspire loyalty and general good feelings. But Sam's apparent amusement at the thought of Sebastian breaking his marriage vows suggested he did not respect Westerton after all.

Kurt did not question it; he of all people knew what it was to resent and despise one's employer, now more than ever. Sebastian emerged into the early daylight looking much better, indeed. The dirt and dust of the previous day washed off him, his hair styled up off his forehead, freshly laundered clothes with shining buttons adorned his frame, and he seemed in good spirits. He ordered again that Kurt shoudl walk rather than ride the carriage or a horse as their party departed Andeville.  As he walked, Kurt thought of himself in comparison: he'd had a good supper and enough for breakfast, but his sleep had been fitful. There were surely shadows under his eyes, and he had not had a chance to bathe. He wore yesterday's clothes, but he could not be upset about that. They belonged to Blaine, as did his heart. It always would, even if he never saw him again.

The journey was not difficult. Kurt walked for some time, until Sam told him he could ride up on his horse again. "Lord Sebastian will be very well rested before meeting his betrothed," Sam told him with a wink.

 Kurt forced a small smile, but he could find no humor in anything today.  He stayed silent for the rest of their travel, and Sam did not press for conversation.

When they arrived at the Westerton estate, Kurt's mouth fell open.  He had anticipated something similar to Sebastian's estate, perhaps a touch bigger and more grand, but this was something else altogether. Sam told him that the grounds stretched out as far as the eye could see, and boasted several orchards and gardens, as well as ponds, rivers, two lakes, and ample forest area for hunting and riding.  What might as well have been a king's castle stood before them, with beautiful arches and spires reaching for the sky.  Kurt could not imagine what the Dalton estate, which Lord Westerton stood to inherit from his father, looked like.

Sebastian stumbled from the carriage again, groggy from his sleeping draught, but a few splashes of water and well-aimed barbs Kurt's way did well to perk him up.

"Your servant can go with the others to the stables," Miss Mercedes told Sebastian, but he shook his head, sneering.

"No, he shall accompany us when we go to meet my fiance."

Miss Mercedes frowned, her eyes darting between Sebastian and Kurt. "Whatever for? Surely...surely you wish to meet Lord Edward privately, with no servants around to ruin the special moment."

"I'll find it most special when Edward has the chance to look upon the face of the servant he must know as the most vile thing living on his estate, worse than any rats or other vermin." Sebastian sauntered over to Kurt. "In light of your betrayal, I shall not risk my fiance trusting you in any way. He must know who you are and how you are to be treated at once."

Miss Mercedes looked quite alarmed at all this, but Kurt was not surprised. It was simply in Sebastian's nature to care more about humiliating his servant than meeting his fiance. Kurt only hoped Miss Mercedes did not think too poorly of him in light of Sebastian's horrid words.  She pursed her lips but said no more in protest.  Sebastian freshened up a little and then began to walk with Miss Mercedes the short distance to the large, curving doors that opened into Westerton Hall, ordering Kurt to follow behind.  Kurt found a little comfort in Sam falling into step with him.

Kurt stared at the floor in front of him as they walked, not bothering to take in any of the splendour that he knew to be around him. The floors themselves were marble, but Kurt did not find it within himself to admire their beauty.

"Count and Countess Dalton," Miss Mercedes spoke once they had all stopped. Kurt raised his eyes a little, keeping his head tilted down, to look upon these noble figures. The Count was a handsome man, with a strong, stern jaw and dark, wavy hair streaked white and grey, giving him a very dignified appearance. The Countess was years younger than him, petite and strikingly beautiful, with wide eyes and curling black hair piled high on her head.  She looked to be from lands in the East - Kurt did not know enough of the world to say where, but perhaps from the same region as Michael or Tina.  "I present to you, Lord Sebastian Smythe of Everly, and Kurt Hummel, his servant."

Kurt dropped his eyes again, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Why on earth had he been introduced? He heard Sebastian clear his throat in annoyance in front of him; it seemed he, too, thought the inclusion a poor choice.

"Thank you, Miss Mercedes," what had to be the Count's voice rang through the hall.

"We understand the journey was quite arduous," the Countess's soft voice followed.

"Indeed," Sebastian answered, his voice overly-loud, "but it is an honor to meet my future family, and have them know of them trials I endured to finally meet my intended. Where is he?"

Kurt fought not to roll his eyes at this; Sebastian may as well have dismissed the Count and Countess in his eagerness to be introduced to Westerton.

"I see you are eager to meet him," the Count said, voice neutral, "very well. I present to you my son and heir, Lord Edward Anderson of Westerton."

Kurt could hear Westerton's footsteps as he emerged from whereever, and then there was a strange pause. Curious despite himself and anxious, he looked up. 

The first thing he saw was Sebastian's smirking face, as he had turned to look over his shoulder at Kurt, the picture of smug superiority.

Then Kurt laid eyes on Westerton, who stood at the top of the stairs, staring down at him, and all rememberances of how to breathe left him.  

He was clean shaven rather than covered in whiskers, his clothes were immaculate and fitted rather than spare tunics and trousers that needed tailoring, his hair was neatly trimmed and parted and styled into place rather than springing about in wild, beautiful curls, but there was no mistaking him.  

There, in Westerton's place, stood Blaine.


	18. Chapter 18

 “Kurt, stop!  Kurt, please wait!”

Kurt tried to ignore Blaine’s voice calling after him as he ran down hall after extravagant hall, his eyes stinging with tears, his throat already hoarse from his running and hardly being able to breathe. The temptation to look back, to gaze upon the face of the man who held his heart, was overwhelming. But a cold reminder that that man was a stranger, a highborn gentleman with both riches and lies to spare, kept his resolve to flee.

He could not face him, and as the image of Sebastian’s smirking, smug face flashed in his mind, all he could think was that he had been deceived, seduced, made a fool of.  He could hear Blaine still in pursuit, their hurried footsteps echoing off the high walls and arching windows.

He turned a corner and met a dead end, and whirled around, only to find Blaine standing right in front of him, raising his hands in a would-be calming manner.

“Kurt, let me, just let me tell you-“

“Of course,” Kurt spat, refusing to look him in the eye, “whatever pleases you, Lord Westerton.”

Blaine’s hands fell.  “Don’t call me that, please, I…Kurt, I’m so sorry, I should have told you sooner-“

Kurt let out a broken laugh.  His heart raced and his head was spinning.  It seemed as though his entire body was shaking.  “And why would you do that?  Revealing your ruse any sooner would surely have interfered with you and your fiance’s little joke.  S-seduce the servant boy and have a laugh with your intended once he’s realized your trick.”

“No, I – Kurt, how could you-“

“I trusted you,” Kurt said, and his tears spilled over.  He brought a hand up to hide his face.  “I l-loved you.  But this was all a game to you, wasn’t it?  A game you noble folk like to play with stupid boys like me.  Stupid boys foolish enough to believe that you could actually want me, a-actually love me.  It was well acted, Blaine.  I would not have made love wi-with you otherwise.  And now I am the same as any servant Sebastian ever took to his bed and then d-discarded.”  Tears streamed down his face as he tried to leave, but Blaine caught his arms and stayed his attempt to flee.

“Kurt, no.  I love you so very - …please believe me, I-“

“How can I believe anything you say?” Kurt sobbed, pulling back and pressing both hands to his face.  He could not look at Blaine.  “Everything you have ever told me is a lie.  Everything we’ve shared.  Every kiss, every word, every laugh, e-every intimate moment – I must seem so pitiful to you.”

“Please, love, I am so very sorry, I cannot express how it pains me to see you so hurt, I would never have done – I wanted to tell you so many times, but I, I was scared…I was scared you would think me a coward-“

“Y-you are,” Kurt bit out amidst his tears, “you are the worst kind of coward, for trifling with a heart that belonged to someone so inconsequential to you.”

He tried to rush past Blaine again, but Blaine caught his wrist.  “Kurt, if you would only listen-“

“Have you not had enough?” Kurt cried, jerking his arm away.  He dropped his eyes to the ground, his voice a mere whisper now.  “Is the sight of my misery so delightful that milord will not allow me any reprieve to suffer in private?  Give me leave, I beg of you.”

Blaine did not say anything else, and so Kurt pivoted on his heel and ran, choking on tears, with no destination in mind.  He could not face what he was running from, but there was nowhere to run to, in this magnificent manor, every pace of it Blaine’s property, Sebastian’s property, just as he now was.

Eventually, he slowed and found an unlocked door which led to a cool, dark cellar filled with barrels of wine.  It was here he found the solitude he needed, and he quickly pushed himself into the room’s furthest corner, buried his face in his arms, and wept until he fell asleep, exhausted and drained.

***

When Kurt woke, it took a moment for him to remember where he was and everything that had happened.  He screwed up his face, refusing to shed another tear as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He noticed a plate of food and a flagon of wine on the floor beside him. Confused, he picked up the plate, and his stomach growled in response to the delicious bread, cheese, and fruit sitting on it.  He wondered if perhaps Sam or Miss Mercedes had secretly done him one last kindness, because he was sure once Sebastian settled in…with Blaine – no, Edward – they would not risk helping him any more.

He blinked rapidly and stared down at his lap forlornly.  None of it made any sense, and yet his heart may as well have been broken shards lodged in his chest, such was his feeling at the reveal of Blaine – Edward’s – deception.  He could not let himself believe for a moment that it was anything but a nasty trick two spoiled, bored noblemen had decided to play on a stupid servant to entertain themselves. He had been a fool from the start, to think that he could somehow be rescued by a highwayman who would not rob him and hurt him, but fall in love with him, while ignoring the wealthy and experienced Lord Sebastian Smythe. 

He ate the food slowly, unable to truly savor the taste, trying to block memories of his time with Blaine. Their touches, the tender words Blaine had spoken to him, the knife with the beautiful handle, swimming alone with him, kissing him, making love with him.  It had been the best time of Kurt’s life ever since his mother had died years ago, and it was all a lie. Blaine was not real; the real man was Edward. Lord Edward Anderson of Westerton, who would one day be the duke of Dalton.  Sebastian was surely quite happy with how everything had unfolded, Kurt thought bitterly. He had been right all along, after all.

He could not hide forever, he knew. He waited as long as he could, but eventually he rose to his feet, hugging his middle for protection, and emerged from the wine cellar, unsure of what to do now or where to go.

But he only just stepped outside the door and he found himself face to face with the last person in the world he wanted to see.

“Kurt,” Blaine – Edward – no, Lord Westerton – said stepping forward, his hands reaching forward.  Kurt stepped back on instinct.  “Love, I…I’m sorry –“

“Please don’t call me that, milord,” Kurt said to the floor.

Lord Westerton said nothing in response, and Kurt dared to look up.

Pain and desperation lined every inch of Blaine’s face, and Kurt’s mouth trembled at the sight of that face so miserable. He looked back at the floor.

“Please, I…I don’t wish to upset you further, Kurt, or to force you to speak to me, but I cannot go any longer having you believe what you do.”

Kurt had most certainly not given himself permission to cry again, especially not in front of Blaine, and yet tears threatened to spill over, adding to his humiliation.  His mouth worked for a moment before he found words.  “Just…please…I know I treated your fiancé terribly, with disrespect and insubordination, but please, do not punish my father for it.  He is an innocent man in all of this, and sick.  Please do not stop me from sending whatever money I have left to him.”

Blaine took another step towards him, and Kurt sucked in a breath.

“Kurt, do you truly believe that if I intended to marry Everly, I would treat him as I did as we journeyed?  I could never treat my future husband so cruelly.”

Kurt frowned, thinking to how Sebastian had been kept tied up, how the other ruffians had mocked him. He remembered how Puck had punched him once.

“I know you must hate me, that you think me a coward. And I am,” Blaine continued, his voice breaking, when Kurt did not respond, “but you must…I must make it clear to you that nothing I did was out of malice towards you.  I never intended to hurt you; Everly and I had never seen each other nor communicated before that day – that awful, wonderful day when I found you – and there was certainly no plan to trick you. I would…I would never do that to you.”

Kurt shook his head slightly, wiping at his eyes, but he couldn’t help raising his eyes to meet Blaine’s. Blaine’s, which were shimmering with tears, and the sight of him made Kurt’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Please believe me.  Everly was the very reason that I ran away from Westerton estate. My parents arranged the marriage without my consent, and I snapped. For years I had been the dutiful son, miserable but respectable, stifled but a nobleman any duke would be proud to call his heir.  I knew Everly by reputation alone, and I could not bear the thought of being married to him for the rest of my life.” Blaine looked down, his mouth twisting in disgust. Kurt hugged himself tighter. It was not possible…was it? Kurt wanted to believe so badly that perhaps…just perhaps what they shared had not all been a lie, even if Blaine did not, could not love him as Kurt did. For as much as he wanted to banish his feelings and passion for the man before him, he still yearned for him with every beat of his heart. Even now, in the face of so many lies and impossibilities, he itched to go to him, kiss his mouth, be held in his arms once again.

“I thought I was so clever, taking on the guise of a highwayman, quickly charming the outlaws I found myself with until I was leading them all.  I thought I could live the rest of my life like that, relieving people like the man I had been of riches they did not need, and never again answering to the demands of my parents and the position thrust upon me.” Blaine took another step towards him, and this time, Kurt did not retreat. He stayed still, watching him carefully, and let out a quiet gasp when Blaine’s entreating fingers brushed the cuff of his tunic like a whisper. “But then I met you, and I came to realize how foolish I’d been, how cowardly. I thought my life here was a misery I needed to escape, but it was the height of luxury and comfort.  When you told me of your struggles, of how Everly treated you and his other servants, I was ashamed. I worried that my dalliances in my youth were similar to his – taking advantage of servants, abusing my power…but I managed to convince myself that he and I were very different, as I had willingly given up all that wealth and power, and I never tricked or forced anyone into my bed.”

“You are not like him.” Kurt could not stop his mouth, it seemed, and despite his fear and assumptions that Blaine had indeed seduced him for sport, something deep down inside him knew that comparing him to the likes of Sebastian was not fair.

“No,” Blaine said slowly, and Kurt held his breath as his lover’s fingers found his own, “no, I should like to believe I am not.  But still, I was afraid to tell you. I thought, what will he think of me, a pampered lord running from my responsibilities when the world had been handed to me, after he lived in poverty for years?”  Kurt watched as Blaine gently linked their fingers together. His hand shook, but he did not pull away.  How right it felt for their hands to hold each other again.

“…And the longer I waited, the worse I felt for keeping it from you. I knew I would, one day, I would. The – the day we made love by the lake I retreated to as a boy, I resolved I would tell you everything, no more lies, no more half-truths or evasions. But then…”

“Then I told you I could not stay; I had to provide for my father.”

Blaine looked up, met Kurt’s eyes, his own wide, with what Kurt needed to believe was sincerity.  The intimacies, the passion and love they had shared, how close they had become. Kurt needed to believe it had been real in some manner. His heart clung to the idea that he had been too quick to assume Blaine’s words, his touch, the way he looked at Kurt, had all been affected and designed to hurt him, a clever plot put together by his lover and his hated employer.  Everything in him wanted to Blaine’s words, then and now, to be true.

“Please, Kurt. Please believe me when I say that if not for your noble dedication to your father, I would have spent the rest of my days living as an outlaw with you. I have never been happier than when I was with you.”

Kurt’s lip trembled as he fought back his tears, chest aching. He tightened his grip on Blaine’s hands, searching the handsome face he had thought he knew so well.  He looked more like his Blaine now, and not the highborn gentleman from before – his hair was loose and curling, if still rather short, and he wore only simple tan breeches and a white, untucked shirt.  His feet were bare.  He seemed so vulnerable because of it, so unlike the stranger who stood at the top of the stairs, refined, immaculate, every hair in place, every button on his jacket shining, and Kurt could feel himself giving in to what he wanted. He wanted Blaine. He wanted their love. He wanted to believe in what they had.

“Blaine, I…” He whispered, as his tears fell. Blaine reached up, so very slowly, to tentatively wipe them away, even as a tear fell down his own cheek. His gentle touch reminded Kurt of how it felt when those same fingertips caressed him intimately, when those same hands held his face and kissed him, tenderly, or playfully, or passionately.

“Kurt…”

Shaking, Kurt leaned forward, and let his lips ghost over the droplet on the apple of Blaine’s cheek. He heard Blaine gasp in his ear, and he let out a sigh of his own.

Blaine brought their joined hands up to his chest, resting them over his heart.  “Please say you believe me, love.”

Kurt shut his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Blaine’s fingers linked with his.

This was to be their ending, then, and though it broke Kurt’s heart once more, he thought he could find it within himself to accept it eventually.  There were so many unanswered questions, so many future uncertainties, so many days left in his life he wished to spend with Blaine, but he knew it could not be. Knowing that Blaine did love him had to be enough – it would be enough, somehow.

“I do.”


	19. Chapter 19

Kurt held Blaine close and kissed him, kissed him until Blaine drew away, his expression troubled.

“You’re crying,” he said, wiping away Kurt’s tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kurt said, closing his eyes. He gripped Blaine’s hands so his own would not shake.

“Kurt…what do you mean?”

“I can’t stay here,” Kurt told his lover, shutting his eyes against the reality of it.

“What – but, please, love, I know I’ve hurt you, that I deceived you, but I thought you understood – do you not want to be with me?”

Kurt shook his head. “I cannot be some…some boy you keep on the side, Blaine.  I would have gladly lived as an outlaw with you, but I cannot stay here, as a servant or, or your lover, watching you marry Sebastian, live with him, share the things we share with him…” He felt sick at the very thought.

Blaine was staring at him, dumfounded.  “I would never ask you to do such a thing.”

“I do not wish to be parted from you,” Kurt said, his voice thick with emotion, “but I cannot bear to stay.  And I do not know where I will go, how I will provide for my father.”

“I’m not marrying Sebastian.”

“He’s ill, and I’ve already neglected him.  I –“ Kurt stopped as Blaine’s words reached his ears. “What did you say?”

Blaine’s expression had cleared. A smile twitched on his lips and he took Kurt’s hand in his, leading him down the hall. “Come. There is something I want to show you.”

Curious despite himself, unable to resist Blaine’s invitation to go anywhere with him, Kurt followed, taking in the splendor of the manor as they walked through its halls. He’d been too blind with grief before to truly notice the extravagance around him or how disgustingly wealthy Blaine must truly be.

Blaine brought him to a balcony that overlooked a beautiful little courtyard decorated with crawling vines, a magnificent fountain, and one very loud and angry Lord Sebastian Smythe of Everly, who was presently glaring at Miss Mercedes as she and Sam ushered him into a carriage.

“The House of Everly will never forget this insult,” he declared. He looked the best Kurt had seen him in months, clean and well fed and rested, dressed in his regular finery, but nothing could mask the ugly look of outrage and offense on his face.

“Rest easily, Lord Smythe,” Miss Mercedes said, sounding far too cheerful for the circumstances, “(The Duke) is quite confident that the compensation he has provided for your troubles will soothe your parents, especially once they learn of the reasons Lord Edward wished to sever his betrothal to you. After all, there are not many who desire marriage to an admitted philanderer who boasts he will continue his bed-hopping even after his vows are said.”

Sebastian moved to strike her, but Sam caught his arm with the fiercest expression Kurt had ever seen on the happy-go-lucky guard.

“Let me help you into your carriage, Lord Smythe,” Sam fairly growled, “you’ve a long journey home.”

Sebastian ripped his arm from Sam’s grasp with a sneer, but took the next step up to the carriage all the same. As he did, he looked up, and his gaze fell on Kurt and Blaine watching from the balcony.  His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, but he seemed unable to produce words. He simply gawked at them with a thunderous expression as Miss Mercedes gently pushed him the rest of the way into the carriage. Sam followed his gaze, spotting Kurt and Blaine on the balcony and winking at them.

A wisp of petty triumph at Sebastian’s outrage weaved in and out of Kurt’s confusion.  He turned to Blaine, who was beaming at him.

“I…I don’t understand,” Kurt said, his voice taking on a high, breathy quality even as he fought not to hope, not to assume…

“I could never marry that awful man,” Blaine said, taking Kurt’s hands in his own, his eyes wide and earnest, “I could never marry anyone but you, Kurt.”

Kurt’s breath caught in his throat at this.  “You cannot mean…I am but a servant, and you are…you are Lord Edward of Westerton, you are the heir to a dukedom!”

“And when you saw me last, we were both outlaws, happy to live the rest of our lives together. Kurt,” Blaine brought Kurt’s hands to his lips, kissing his knuckles firmly, “I know that rank is something that matters in this world, but does not matter in my heart. If you’ll have me, if…if you are willing to endure the struggles that will come with being attached to a man like myself, the only thing I desire is to live the rest of my days with you in them.  I came back here, returned to my old life, for you.  I can provide for your father; surely he could accept the help of family, and now that I’m a honest man, his integrity will not be compromised.  And…and if you do not wish to marry me…” Blaine suddenly looked doubtful, and cast his eyes to the side, “I still wish to provide you and your father with whatever you need.”  He glanced at Kurt again cautiously.  “I know this is so much to take in. I know you’ll want to take some time to rest and think it over.”

Kurt held Blaine’s face in his hands and leaned forward, kissing him softly.  He could not believe, after the tumult of emotions and fears and confusions he’d experienced, that any of this was truly possible. That he had found such a good, generous, kind-hearted man in the most bizarre of circumstances, and that that man wanted to be with him.  He held Blaine close, pressing his face against the side of his lover’s neck.  “Of course I will marry you.”  He felt Blaine’s arms tighten around him, heard the hitch of a breathless laugh escape his lips, and grinned in return.

***

“There are still so many things I do not understand,” Kurt said to Blaine later, as they walked arm in arm through a beautiful garden on Blaine’s estate.  Kurt was still quite overwhelmed by the sprawling lands and ornate halls of Blaine’s property.  Having all these unanswered questions and mysteries swirling around in his mind did not help matters.  “And I demand you reveal everything. There can be no more secrets between us.”

“Never again,” Blaine vowed, leaning over to seal this promise with a kiss, “whatever you ask, I shall answer to the best of my ability.”

Kurt pursed his lips, and pulled Blaine over to sit on a nearby bench.  Contrary to Blaine’s assumption that he would feel tired and need to lie down, Kurt was brimming with newfound energy. He had been given a second chance at life with Blaine!  His father had already been sent for, and Blaine had already arranged for Kurt to have a real introduction with his intended’s family.

“Well, I suppose the first question will be easy enough.  Am I to call you Edward now?”  Kurt was not thrilled at the idea; he did not like to remember that he had only ever known his love by a false name.

Blaine – or Edward – shook his head. “You can call me whatever you wish.  Of course, in formal settings, we shall call each other by our titles.  But Blaine is my middle name, given to me by my mother, and I used it often as a child among friends.”

“So it is your name,” Kurt said happily.

Blaine nodded. “But Edward is my father’s.  And if I have a son, it will be his as well.”

Kurt frowned.  He knew that Blaine must have an heir, and he loved the idea of raising a child, or more than one, but he was troubled by how they would go about it.  “How is that possible?”

Blaine blew out a breath.  “I will need to conceive a child with a woman.”

This was what Kurt had been dreading to hear.  “Sebastian used to say…”

“What?” Blaine drew Kurt close, and Kurt knew he must have a disturbed expression on his face. “What did he used to say? That he would force a woman to lie with him in order to produce an heir?  That he would continue his dalliances after he was wed?”  Kurt nodded, and Blaine frowned.  “Well, that is simply not how any decent person would go about the business of marriage or having a child, is it? Kurt, I promise you, lying with a woman would be only a matter of duty for me.  I would take no pleasure in it, other than knowing a child would come from the union, a child for you and I to raise as our own.  And of course, the woman in question must be willing and handsomely compensated.  You and I must be comfortable with the arrangement as well…as comfortable as we can be, in any case.”  Blaine looked slightly pained and Kurt had to laugh a little at his misfortune.  “Whatever Sebastian has said to you regarding this, or anything else, please, I beg you put it from your mind.  He is gone from our home forever, and I should hope we will never see him again.”

Kurt leaned into Blaine’s side.  “I still do not understand that part of it. How it is you are set to marry me, and not him.”

“Kurt, you know I could never feel for anyone as I feel for you, much less that foul – “

“As much as I enjoy hearing you insult him,” Kurt interrupted in amusement, “and I shall never tire of your professions of love, I meant that I do not understand why your parents are allowing this. Or Sebastian, for that matter.  Is he not going to cause trouble, after you have spurned him like this?  And your parents cannot be pleased with me…I am a commoner; I was intended to serve you, not wed you.”

“Well, it’s not as though I kidnapped Everly,” Blaine said innocently.  “On the contrary, I rescued him from some brigands and delivered him to my estate, unharmed –“

“Mostly,” Kurt said with a smirk.

“Where he was tended to and sent home.  I did not hold him for ransom, since it was I who supplied the payment when we handed him over to Miss Mercedes.  True, I broke the engagement, but any respectable member of the nobility could understand that, what with my having learned of my betrothed’s intentions to make a cuckold of me as soon as our wedding night was over.”

“You truly did think of everything,” Kurt said, “I am impressed.  But your parents.”

Blaine shook his head with a smile.  “They are so relieved that I’ve returned, that they are willing to accept my…less conventional match.  I told them I would not stay unless I could marry the man of my choosing, whoever he might be, whatever his station.  Miss Mercedes told me they had hoped for my return for so long, that they did not send word to the Everly estate of my disappearance for quite some time; by the time their letter arrived there, you and Sebastian had already started your journey.”

“Blaine…you did not want this life,” Kurt said regretfully, “I am so touched that you would return here, for me, for my father, but I feel badly that I’ve caused you to give up your happiness.”

Blaine soothed a thumb across Kurt’s cheek, smiling at him softly.  “My happiness is wherever you are.”

***

 On the day of the wedding, Kurt stood across from Blaine, dressed in the finest garments he had ever seen, much less worn, and surrounded by dozens of guests, most of whom were friends and family and acquaintances of Blaine’s.  But all Kurt noticed was the feel of Blaine’s hands holding his, and the joy in his lover’s eyes as they made their vows.

They sealed their union with a kiss, which was met with polite clapping from most of their guests, and raucous whooping and whistling from one section, where Blaine’s men stood. 

“Between your band of outlaws and Tina attending me for the ceremony, I fear we will scandalize your parents into fleeing our wedding altogether,” Kurt whispered to Blaine with a smile as they walked down the aisle hand in hand, and their guests showered them with flower petals.

Blaine smirked back at him. “The sooner they leave, the sooner I have you to myself.”

“Perhaps we can sneak away during the festivities,” Kurt started to giggle, twining his fingers with Blaine’s.

“You’ll do no such thing.  You two have the rest of your lives together; I should have one more evening with my son, since I’ve been without him for so long,” a gruff voice spoke behind them.

Kurt turned around, pulling Blaine with him. 

“Father,” he said, smiling so hard that his eyes crinkled as he threw his arms around his father’s neck.

“It was a very nice wedding,” his father said as he pulled away, reaching to shake Blaine’s hand, “I’m glad I was here for it.”

“Thank you, Mister Hummel,” Blaine replied, shaking his hand enthusiastically, “and we certainly wanted to wait until you arrived.”

“And not a day more,” Kurt’s father added, but he winked at them, and Kurt beamed at both men.  He wouldn’t have wanted his father to miss this, and he was just so happy that he had arrived in good health, after Blaine had sent for him and provided all the necessary comforts for his journey to the Westerton estate.

The evening wore on, filled with kisses, speeches, food, and drink.  Kurt danced until his feet grew so sore that he could do nothing but sit with them in Blaine’s lap, and drank until his mind was swirling pleasantly and he rested his heavy head on Blaine’s shoulder.

“It’s time for the bedding!” Puck shouted drunkenly somewhere to his left, and Kurt lifted his head, eyes widening in alarm.

“No, no,” Blaine laughed, waving off eager hands, which were already pawing at Kurt’s vest, “you lot only want an excuse to relieve us of our finery and keep it for yourselves.  There will bedding, my husband and I have decided it!”  Kurt grinned lazily at the phrase – my husband. It sounded so right.

“I did have my eye on that brooch,” Tina teased, from where she stood with Michael’s arm wrapped around her waist.

“You shall have to fight me for it another day,” Kurt declared loudly, “as it is a treasured wedding gift from my husband.”

“Are you two going to call each other that all the time from now on?” Finn asked with a confused frown.

Tina leaned over to whisper in Kurt’s ear: “Or perhaps you can lend it to me.  I’ll be needing something borrowed now that Michael has vowed to make an honest woman of me.”

Kurt stared at her for a moment as she glanced meaningfully at Michael, who was now helping a rowdy Puck pull Blaine to his feet.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Wes and Miss Mercedes were tugging on his arms.

 _I shall have to congratulate them later,_ he thought, as he and Blaine were hoisted into the air, carried on the shoulders of their friends down the length of the banquet hall to many cheers.  He reached for Blaine’s hand, and his husband squeezed his fingers gently, his eyes managing to sparkle and darken all at once as they looked Kurt up and down.

This was their night.


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck with this story and my often erratic updating habits! This little epilogue is just a bit of pseudo-smut and unrepentant cheese/sap. Thanks for reading this story!

Kurt fell on top of Blaine, burying his face against his husband’s collarbone as he caught his breath.  Strong hands stroked his sweat-slick back languidly, and he heard Blaine hum contentedly.  He raised his head and quirked an eyebrow playfully, but his heart melted at the blissful expression on the handsome face in front of him.  He kissed Blaine’s smile, coaxing him into a deeper kiss until Blaine wrapped his arms around his waist and flipped them over, knocking one of the pillows on their bed to the floor.

“Are you ready to go again so soon?” Blaine asked with a devilish grin as he rolled his hips down, making Kurt moan and his cock stir.

They had returned home from Tina and Michael’s wedding, and it was no secret to either of them (or amongst the servants, Kurt suspected, considering how none of their attendants were waiting for them when they arrived at the Westerton estate) that weddings sparked a ravenous desire in them.  They had kept the whole house up the night of Sam and Miss Mercedes’s nuptials, Kurt had blushed to discover the next morning.

“You know what declarations of everlasting love do to me,” Kurt said breathlessly, leaning up to kiss Blaine, letting his hips rock up to meet his husband’s.

Blaine hummed, his expression caught between amusement and arousal.  “That I do.  So, in that case…”

He slotted their lips together, kissing Kurt softly.  “I love you.”

Kurt smiled, carding his hand through Blaine’s curls. “I love you, too.”

Blaine answered him with a grin, and rolled his hips down again. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

Kurt propped himself up on his elbows, and slid his legs to grip Blaine’s hips, aligning them perfectly and making Blaine groan. “I’ll love you for eternity.”

“I’ll love you,” Blaine panted against Kurt’s mouth as their bodies moved together, “fearlessly and forever.”


End file.
